Harry Potter and the Dementors of Azkaban
by Blue Skyes101
Summary: Harry is sent to Azkaban and everyone believes he is guilty. Harry then realizes a strange truth about dementors. Are they really as evil as they seem to be, or just under a curse? Can Harry save them and prove his innocence?
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Dementors of Azkaban**

Chapter 1 - My Life is a Soapbox

Harry sat on the boat numbly. The wind and rain stung his face as it whipped around him. He glanced over at the land they'd set off from, and then at his destination. Azkaban. He was on his way to Azkaban. Just a few days earlier that week, he had been brutally assaulted and arrested by numerous aurors in his own room at Privet Drive. They then convicted him of homicide, calling him every name you could think of. He had been accused of the murder of twelve muggles in exactly the same alley Sirius had supposedly killed twelve muggles years ago. Sirius had actually been found innocent just last year when Peter had been caught at one of the British Dunkin' Donuts.

Harry, too, was innocent, of course, but who believed him? He was just the Freaking-Boy-Who-Lived! When had he **ever** risked **his** life to save the wizarding world? No, he was just going to pack up and join the psycho maniac who trying to MURDER him! Because that was the smart thing to do. Everyone, from Dumbledore to Ron, Hermione, even Sirius, had come to believe he was guilty.

Harry spit out a piece of his hair as it hit him in the face. He looked over at the two aurors next to him. Kingsley just looked stoic, keeping his features carefully neutral; but Macnair looked like Christmas had come early. Harry snorted.

You know what the strangest thing about all of this was? Harry couldn't bring himself to feel anything. Not a thing. When he thought of all the people he's trusted, all the people he'd cared for, all the people who'd betrayed him, he just felt nothing. He could care less. He was completely and wholly apathetic. Was that a bad thing? Had he simply felt so much pain in his sixteen years of life that he couldn't feel anything anymore?

Harry sighed and tried to wrap his arms around himself to quell his shivering. He looked over at the prison, which they were rapidly approaching. They were nearly there. It was a good thing, he supposed, that he couldn't feel anything at the moment, what with the dementors and all. He could already feel a chill creep up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Could he keep up this feeling of apathy for his lifelong imprisonment at Azkaban? Could he learn to feel nothing while hearing his parents dying screams daily? If he could, what would that make him? Would he even be human anymore?

Harry felt the boat stop with a lurch as they arrived at Azkaban, the most depressing place on earth. He looked up at the menacing walls and the barren island and heaved a sigh. Maybe if he was lucky, the dementors wouldn't affect him that badly. But Harry was never lucky, now was he? Macnair grabbed Harry roughly and threw him to the ground. As soon as his skin touched the dirt, Harry could feel the chill of the dementors fill his entire body. Soon, he knew, the visions would come.

He was roughly brought to his feet and forced to walk into the huge grey building. Disorientated, Harry barely noticed as they passed through the doors and into a huge, dirty foyer. Plodding along obediently and trying his best not to collapse as one of the thousands of dementors came near, Harry passed dozens of cells. They each contained a person, of varying sizes, height, colors, but one thing was the same about each of them. That one thing was the look in their eyes, so dark and empty that Harry felt he was looking into their souls. That look was pure hopelessness and despair, and Harry knew that after a long enough time in here, he would adopt that look himself.

Harry tore his gaze from the miserable wretches behind bars and focused it, instead, on his feet. After some time (Azkaban = huge), the three came to a small cell at the end of the hallway. The cell was disgustingly filled with filth and covered in grime. And the smell was horrible! Suffice to say, Harry nearly tossed his cookies just standing in the door. But, of course, Harry mused, Voldemort would want his enemy to have the worst cell in all of Azkaban. None of the other cells they had passed were this bad. That sounded like something Voldemort would do.

Macnair shoved Harry in, and he fell unceremoniously onto the floor. Harry didn't bother getting up off the floor, and Macnair sneered, pointing to the barred window in the cell. "Look, Master Potter, a window! Only the best for the Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World!" With one last well-aimed kick to Harry's ribs, Macnair turned to leave. "Come on, Kingsley, let's go."

Kingsley hesitated, disgust on his face, but whether it was at Harry, his cell, or Macnair, he did not know. Looking into his eyes, Harry thought he may have seen a flash of pity; but it was gone as quick as it had come, only to be replaced by a hard gleam. With a slam, Kingsley locked Harry in; and Macnair and he left.

As soon as they were out of sight, the dementors began to cluster around Harry's door. And Harry knew that he wouldn't last more than a few more minutes before he passed out. Harry fought the despair growing in his gut until he began to feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. As the voices of his past grew louder, and darkness filled his vision, Harry groaned. They couldn't just torture him with past memories. They just _had_ to make him relive his most recent and painful memories. And with a whimper of pain, Harry slipped into the past.

_~Flashback~_

Harry stood before a full court and glanced around. In the audience area, he saw so many familiar faces: Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Tonks, Hagrid, Remus, Sirius, all of their faces twisted in anger or covered in tears. Harry saw friends from school, his teachers, Dumbledore… How could they possibly think he had killed those muggles? He was only Sixteen! They knew him, knew he would never do that. Or…at least, he had thought they had known him. Searching the crowd of jeering mocker frantically, Harry realized something. Where were Ron and Hermione? Had they not come?

Harry stopped searching as Fudge walked up to the podium and began to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to face the trial of a one Harry James Potter." Fudge glanced around, as if expecting some sort of applause; and Harry snorted. Yeah, he was facing a life sentence at Azkaban; but watching Fudge acting like a lost puppy trying to please the public was darn funny.

With a murderous glare at Harry, Fudge continued. "Mr. Potter is accused of the murder of twelve muggles in plain view of the non-magical public. How does the alleged plead?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Not guilty, of course, you bumbling idiot." Harry would have continued, but a sharp slap from the auror next to him told him that he would have to wait to unleash his fury at Fudge until later time. But, still, the small insult made Harry feel better. Fudge had currently turned a shad of puce that strangely reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon. He wondered distantly if the two were related. Yeah, he was being awfully sardonic; but it was either that or breaking down into a sobbing mess. Harry preferred to go down head cocked and guns blasting. Though, truthfully, he would rather to not go down at all.

"Very well," Fudge said, "Then we shall present the evidence against Mr. Potter. Our first two witnesses are a Mr. Ronald Weasley and a Miss Hermione Granger." A resolute Ron and tearful Hermione stepped up to the box.

Harry blanched. There was an odd roaring in his ears, and he saw red for a second. He had known they had believed him guilty, but still! Harry forgot to breathe for a moment as Hermione opened her mouth to send Harry to his doom.

_~End Flashback~_

Harry moaned and rolled over on the floor. He desperately wanted to scream, rant, smash his fist on the wall, something. But he knew Macnair and Kingsleyweren't gone yet, and he refused to give Macnair the pleasure of hearing him break down. Harry's breath came in slow, rocking heaves as he felt the past overtake him again.

_~Flashback~_

"Guilty," Fudge declared with a slam of his gavel. 'Who gave him a gavel anyways?' Harry thought. 'Only muggles used those, and, quite frankly, I don't trust him with one of those. Hmm…Nice headline. Minister Fudge drops gavel on Minister from France's foot inciting world war!'

This time a roar of approval went through the crowd. "We sentence Harry James Potter to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban!" Harry felt sick. His heart ached and he thought he might throw up. If he did, he decided to aim for Fudge's buffed and polished shoes. However, he never got the chance, as two unnamed aurors grabbed him by his shackled arm and dragged him and his heavy chains to the door.

As they pulled him along, they stopped in front of the only family Harry had ever known. _Had_ known, to be more specific. They had betrayed him and were no longer his family. At the sight of them, Harry felt his insides turn cold; and the feeling of apathy settled in. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing unrestrainedly into Mr. Weasley's arms. Mr. Weasley himself was shaking in anger. The twins, Charlie, and Bill were sending Harry looks that could kill. The rest of the order was also glaring at Harry. Ginny was looking at Harry with something akin to dumbfound shock, as if she could not believe Harry had done this.

'That's because I didn't!' Harry wanted to scream at her. Hermione looked exhausted, as if being up there to testify against him had drained her. Ron held his arms around her protectively and eyed Harry like he was going to charge any moment. His look was filled with anger, sadness, betrayal, and hurt. Harry's anger momentarily flared up, 'what right did he have to feel betrayed or hurt!', but the anger died away almost instantly. Harry almost gave a laugh. Ron and Hermione had finally gotten together, and all it had taken was Harry supposedly becoming a murderer.

Dumbledore looked like Harry had kicked his puppy, his puppy Baskerville. (Cute little thing, that Baskerville; Harry had met her once.) The twinkle had left his eyes, and his gaze was filled with disappointment. Harry felt the insane urge to give a cheer; he had defeated the twinkle! Moving on, Harry looked at Remus. He was a mess, and Harry realized the full moon was only a few days away. Moony looked completely and totally crushed. His best friend's son had (seemingly) joined his murderer. Harry could almost pity him.

Harry turned his gaze on Sirius, whom he could not pity. The man glared at Harry, his face filled with anger, hate, sadness, fear, so many conflicting emotions. He probably wanted nothing more than to punch Harry right then. Heck, they all probably wanted to punch him. Harry could care less at that point. Through gritted teeth, Sirius managed to spit out "You're not my godson." Harry couldn't have agreed more.

The only people looking at Harry without hate, anger, or sadness were Malfoy and Snape. Harry had no idea why Malfoy was there, but the Syltherin boy looked at Harry with sympathy. Harry looked at the two men without resentment. They had never liked Harry, but, at the same time, they had never betrayed him. In fact, looking at their faces, he knew they believed him to be innocent. Snape, for one, looked flabbergasted that the light could ever believe their "Golden Boy" had done this.

Seeing his two most hated enemies (besides Voldemort), especially Snape, who _really_ hated him, look at him with such pity and understanding was the last straw for Harry. He just snapped, beginning to laugh hysterically at the irony of it all. At the shocked, ashen looks on everyone's faces, Harry realized Sirius had done exactly the same thing years ago and laughed all the more.

Harry turned his back on the shocked light followers and allowed the aurors to drag him out the doors. As he passed Rita Skeeter, he thought 'to heck with it' and growled menacingly in her general direction. Harry laughed some more; at least someone would get something out of this.

As he passed through those ministry doors, Harry left behind the last of the innocent trusting boy he had been.

_~End Flashback~_

Hot tears stung Harry's eyes, and all the feelings came back. The anger, the sadness, the fear, the hurt, the hate. So much for locking up his feelings. With a whimper, Harry curled up in a ball and let the tears roll free, rocking back and forth with racking sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note:

Yep, this one is up pretty quick. I have the first couple chapters written out on paper, so I just have to type them. Thanks to everyone who reviewed; I love the input. Thanks also to my twin sis for reviewing this for errors so I don't accidentally use "arty" instead of "are they" or something like that. Btw, I don't have a pairing for Harry set up yet; but I know it won't be a Harry/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, or Harry/Snape. I don't really like those. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

Blue Skyes101

**Disclaimer: I forgot to add this in last chapter. No, I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, do you think I would be sitting here writing fan fiction? I think not.**

Chapter 2 – Juan and Cindy

Six Months Later~

Harry sat up in his dirty corner and tried to rub the grit out of his eyes. He looked down at his hands; they were black with dirt, just as he was sure the rest of him was. He had spent six months in the living pit of despair, but he was still unused to it. How could he get used to it? He never went outside, and he was fed twice a day with the most disgusting food you could think of. Harry could get better food at the Dursley's. He slept in a pile of rags, and he was constantly surrounded by dementors. It was torture, plain and simple.

And still, Harry had yet to go insane. He was always drifting in and out of his memories and was constantly overcome by his emotions. But, somehow, his sanity still held by a thread. Harry shook his head, his greasy shoulder-length hair flopping into his face. He felt weird today. What was the date? Today felt important for some reason. Carefully counting down the dates in his head, Harry came to a surprising conclusion. Today was his birthday.

Harry tried to clear his head. Wasn't your seventeenth birthday the day you came into your powers and were legally considered an adult? Normally, Harry would be ecstatic, but how could he be? He was in Freaking Azkaban for crying out loud! Ugh, Harry's scar was throbbing.

This had been happening more and more. Harry had actually gotten quite good at reading Voldemort and escaping from his world through the scar. Ha! The person who had trapped him here was also his escape! It was a relief to go somewhere where the dementors couldn't reach him. Harry had felt Voldemort probe back a few times, but he had managed to make his mind go completely blank every time and keep Voldemort out of his thoughts. It wasn't that hard; Harry had enough training at the Dursley's, where they expected him to obey, not think.

It was one of the very few pleasures in Harry's life that he could frustrate and annoy Voldemort. Sometimes, when he felt better than usual, he would try to send Voldemort random images such as kittens, a sack of potatoes, or *snicker* Snape in a leopard thong bikini. (Harry still didn't quite like Snape.) Harry had intense fun seeing Voldemort raging at the obnoxious images or trying to figure out why on earth Harry had sent those particular images. (The kittens, he got; he sort of got the bikini Snape; but potatoes? Why?)

Even seeing Voldemort _crucio_ the nearest person through the bond didn't dampen Harry's joy; he felt they deserved it. His betrayal and time at Azkaban had already hardened Harry. If he ever got out of here, he wasn't sure he could ever trust another human again. Besides, if he ever got out, it's not like he'd try to kill his betrayers; but he wasn't sure he could forgive them. In fact, he was almost sure he couldn't; or if he did, he would put them through heck first.

Harry shook his head again. He needed to stop thinking about them; it only made him mad. Harry felt a chill wash over him and sighed in resignation. The dementors must be coming to give him his "meal." Suddenly, Harry felt something in him break open in a rush. Power flooded his body and washed over his senses. What was going on? He felt like he was suffocating in pure magic. And then, it was over just as quickly as it had started.

Harry gasped for breath and, panting, checked his body for damage. He could feel the power resting beneath his skin, waiting to be used. Inspecting the rest of his body, Harry saw that he was just as dirty as before, but no longer as thin. His body had filled out, and he found that he had muscles. Not bodybuilder muscles (he had nothing on the Schwarzenegger), muscles lean and strong- built for endurance.

He also seemed to have grown several inches. He looked over at his arm, and the scar from when Macnair had kicked him last week was gone. His hands flew up to his head, but the lightning bolt shaped scar was still there. So this was what they meant by coming into your powers. Harry felt three times stronger.

On an urge to use his newfound power, Harry quickly thought in his head _lumos_. He gasped; his hand had lit up, white light filling the desolate cell. He hadn't used a wand so how was that possible? While he was still marveling at this, Harry realized something else. He couldn't feel the dementors anymore. Conjuring up the memory of his parents, Harry found he could feel… happy.

But how? Why? Then Harry heard voices from down the hall coming closer and scrambled to the front of his cell. His cell was far removed from the others, and the aurors only came once a week to check up on prisoners; and that had been yesterday. Who could it be? Harry leaned against the bars to listen in on the approaching voices.

"Look at them! Cowering away from us. It's rude!" A voice that was definitely female stated dejectedly. Harry listened closer.

The answering voice was decidedly male. "You know they can't help it, Cin. We take away their happiest memories; how would you feel in their shoes?"

"Well, yes, they can't help it; but that still doesn't make me feel any better." Her voice took on a sad tone. "Just us being near them hurts them. I hate that. I mean look at that poor Harry Potter up here for example. He hasn't done anything wrong, and yet, here he is. Reliving his worst memories and eating moldy bread. I hate having to do this to him….. or to anyone for that matter!"

"If it makes you feel any better, I can try to find some decent food we could give him next time."

"And what about the other prisoners?" The girl sighed. Harry peered closer, trying to find these strange people who seemed to know he was innocent and seemed to want to help. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with two dementors. Harry fell back in a daze, visibly stunned. '_What the heck? Dementors can't talk!_'

"See," the girl (?) dementor whined, pointing at Harry. "He looks so scared of us." Her posture slumped, permeating certain sadness beyond words. And Harry felt…pity. Pity for a dementor. Harry found himself scrambling to comfort her.

"Erm, uh, are you alright?" Harry stammered, slowly getting up off the ground. The two dementors looked at him in surprise.

"You can understand us?" the male (?) dementor asked, astonished. The other one just stood there. Dumbfounded, Harry figured. He felt much the same.

"Err, yeah." Hey, no one ever said anything about him having good conversation skills.

The dementors quickly opened his cell and stood there, staring at him, until the male (?) one finally asked, "Is today your seventeenth birthday? You feel stronger than before." Harry just nodded, uncomfortable with the attention.

'_Was turning seventeen responsible for this?_' he wondered absently.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" the girl (?) dementor squealed, doing a little victory dance around the cramped cell. Harry just stared and eventually decided the guy (?) dementor was the smart one, and the sane one. (Can dementors go insane? He so did not want to see that.)

The male (?) dementor threw a look at the girl (?) dementor that Harry couldn't catch and, looking down on Harry, (He was rather tall) asked kindly, "May we stay and explain?"

"You're going to ask?" Harry's head was spinning. What in the name of Merlin's girlfriend's panties was going on?

"Yes, so may we?" the dementor gestured around Harry's cell.

"Er, sure." The two dementors glided in, and Harry sat down on the floor. They were already taller than him, so what was the point of trying to talk face to face? Suddenly, the two dementors got on the ground as well, Indian style, startling a laugh out of Harry. His first laugh in six months. They looked at him strangely, and Harry responded uncomfortably. "Well, it's just strange with you, here, talking, having gender, sitting cross-legged…" Harry trailed off.

"Yes, it is strange." Harry could swear the male (?) dementor was smiling, but didn't want to pull back to hood to check. "First, allow us to introduce ourselves."

The dementors both pulled back their hoods, revealing surprisingly normal looking heads. They were kind of gross, but that was just because the skin was pale and scabbed over. They reminded Harry of the zombies from those low-budget horror flicks, the really fake looking kind. The male (Harry was sure of it now) dementor had short, greasy black hair; and the female had shoulder-length, brown hair. All in all, they rather looked like people who had been to Azkaban themselves, just twice the size of a normal human, less dirty, and with far more scars.

The male extended a scabbed and torn hand. Harry shook it and found it to be surprisingly warm. "My name is Juan, and this is my friend Cindy. It's nice to meet you, Harry Potter."

"Juan and Cindy," Harry repeated weakly. They nodded. "Juan and Cindy, the dementors."

"Why do you seem so surprised?" Cindy asked rather rudely.

"Well, I, er," Harry shrunk under her glare. "I just had no idea that dementors had names, or friends for that matter." Harry blushed, shamefaced. "Quite frankly, I always thought you were just soul sucking monsters."

Cindy instantly flared up, and Harry suspected she would have launched into a heated monologue had Juan not cut in and stopped her. "Yes, we know how your world views us; and, for all intents and purposes, you are correct. We are soul sucking monsters, but not by choice." Juan sighed "This is not the way it always was. Would you listen to how we came to be this way?" Harry wondered briefly, '_Story time with dementors?_' before giving a stiff nod; and Juan launched into the history of dementors.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. Your kindness knows no bounds. Ready for the next exciting installment of HPATDOA? Yeah, I know, but the title's really long to spell out, and I wanted to see what it looks like shorthand. Oh, well. Anyway, on with Chapter 3; warning, it's a long one.

Blue Skyes101

**Disclaimer: "Can I have it?" "No" "Can I have it?" "No" "Can I have it?" "NO" "Can I-" "NO, you can not; nor will you ever own Harry Potter!" "Darn." "Darn is right." "…Are you **_**sure **_**I can't have it?" "….ARGGGH!"**

Chapter 3 – Wait, What?

"Ok, so you know who the founders of Hogwarts are, right?" Juan asked. Harry nodded mutely. Who didn't know who they were? "Good, so you know who Salazar Slytherin is, right?" Harry nodded again; this was getting boring, and he barely held back a yawn. Juan smirked. "Yes, I am actually going somewhere with this, Mr. I-Can't-Keep-My-Attention-On-Something-For-More-Than-Five-Seconds."

'_Great_,' Harry thought tiredly, '_More hyphens_.'

"Anyway, you probably don't know that before he helped create to Hogwarts, Salazar Slytherin made Azkaban."

Harry looked up at Juan. He hadn't known that. "How do you know that?"

Juan grinned. "When you're around for awhile, like a lot of dementors, you tend to pick up obscure facts, even though that one wasn't so obscure. Did you that it was Godric Gryffindor who named Hogwarts? He was drunk at the time, at Vegas; he got the idea from some random chick and cast an irrevocable spell to name the school. Needless to say, the other founders weren't too happy; and that's why he got stuck with the Gryffindor."

Harry looked at Juan, enraptured despite himself. It made sense though, when he thought about it. After all, who other than a Gryffindor would name an entire school after a mud-covered (those darn hyphens) male pig and a skin condition? I mean, Ginny did name Ron's owl Pidwegeon. _And _Hermione named her cat Crookshanks. It had to be a curse on all Gryffindor. (He, of course, must have been skipped by the curse because Harry Potter is just awesome like that)

Harry opened his mouth to ask if the other founders had done just that when Juan started talking again. "Most people didn't know that Salazar did that. He made it that way to keep safe one of his most secretly guarded secrets (A/N: Yes, I did that on purpose) -one only his heirs know."

Ok, so now Harry was getting irritated. "What's the secret?" He growled through gritted teeth. He hated people (Does that term apply here?) Not telling him things.

Cindy turned to look Harry in the eye, completely ignoring his growing (and obvious) anger. "Dementors."

"What?" Harry's eyes widened considerably in confusion, and Juan held up a hand to quell the imminent barrage of question.

'_Well, well,_' Harry thought interestedly '_He's getting to know me already._'

"Let me continue. Now, Salazar had already picked out the very island we are standing on to build and did indeed build Azkaban when he realized something. He needed jailors. He, of course, could not use corruptible jailors, such as wizards, goblins, or house elves."

"Elves aren't corrupt-" Harry broke off as he realized the house elves would probably just do whatever the prisoners say, a), making Azkaban a place that not only was actually habitable (which is not the point of Azkaban) but actually quite nice and b) they would probably let the prisoners out if they asked to be let out. (Which, once again, is not the point of a desolate, impenetrable, and inescapable wizard prison in the middle of nowhere.) So, Harry decided to drop the point because in the long run, it didn't matter whether or not house elves were corruptible, as the end result would be the same.

"Now at this point," Juan continued, ignoring Harry's outburst. (Harry pouted; he kept getting ignored.) "We dementors were different than we are now. Instead of sucking the happiness out of people, we sucked out negative emotions, such as sadness, anger, or hate.

"Wait, what?" Harry face faulted.

"We suck out negative emotions." Juan repeated amusedly.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope!" Cindy put in happily. "Happiness actually tastes terrible. Give me some good old fashioned grief, and I'm a happy girl."

"The creatures, who I used to have nightmares about, originally were not better than, than, Care Bears!"

"Yep," Juan said. "Of course, we did, though, look the same as we do now. So Salazar, being the stupid Pure Blood Elitist he is, found us repulsive despite our natural charms and goodness and came up with an idea. Yes, Harry, we know how your kind views us. We've been around long enough, and you guys aren't quite above vocalizing your prejudices." Harry had the grace to blush slightly (though he would be loathe to admit it.).

"And let me tell you, you humans aren't that good looking to us either. You guys resemble pink, hairless rodents." Cindy jumped in.

Harry snorted, and Juan shot Cindy a look that clearly said, 'Shut up before I lock you in the closet,' or something to that effect. '_Does Azkaban have closets?_' Harry wondered absently.

"Anyway, so Salazar decides to make our abilities match our looks. Because we look like monsters, to you at least, he turned us into monsters. He cast a very powerful spell to turn us and all our offspring, plus future offspring, into creatures who suck happiness and souls to get by. We _are_ good creatures who only want to help people, even if our diet is changed. So, we were going to try to force him to change us back. But Salazar was crafty. As soon as he was done with the first spell, he cast a spell to make us forced to obey his heir and him; and he made it so that only his heir (and him) could understand us. Also, that we would not affect him or his heir. That's how Voldemort has controlled us when we would really rather not follow him."

"But wait," Harry said, head spinning wildly. "I can talk to you. So I guess I really am an heir of Slytherin, even if only by default." Juan a nodded, and Cindy clapped both her hands enthusiastically. "But why did it wait until now to come into effect?"

"You are not truly an heir until you become an adult. You become an adult at the age of seventeen. That's how pureblood families work, and Salazar probably figured all his heirs would be pureblood, the arrogant prick." Juan replied.

Harry looked at Juan, who looked sad and tired after the terrible story, and at Cindy, who had been so adamant and sincere in her dislike of their abilities and decided. "How do I undo the spell?"

Cindy jumped up with a large smile on her face and pulled Harry up with her. "I knew you'd say that!" she laughed joyfully, dancing up and down while holding Harry's hand. Harry was rather stunned. He'd never expected to see a dementor so happy. Juan grinned too.

"I was hoping you would say that."

"So there _is_ a way." Harry pressed.

"Yes, there is a way." The laughter left Juan's voice. "Salazar told us the counter spell to release us incase the need came…well, either that or to torture us- I'm not sure." Juan's voice turned bitter. "Only an heir can use that counter spell. It must also be used wandlessly. I guess that Salazar also figured all his heirs would be powerful enough."

"What? That's not pos-"Harry broke off as he remembered the wand less _lumos_.

"You were always quite powerful, Harry; but when you came into your powers, you became easily twice as powerful as Dumbledore and quite possibly Voldemort, too. All you need is training."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "And who's going to be teaching me? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm in Az-Freaking-Kaban!"

Juan gave a feral grin "Us, the dementors. You didn't think we'd spent centuries around wizards without learning _anything_ about magic, did you?"

"Erm, well, yeah. Sorry." Harry blushed slightly.

"No need to be sorry," Juan said cheerfully, slapping Harry on the back. "Now, there is one small problem. You can't free us from the spell until you kill Voldemort. You see, Salazar made it so that if two heirs were alive at one time, the elder would control the dementors; and we _all_ know how old Voldy is."

"But I can't defeat Voldemort from Azkaban." Harry pointed out. "And I still need to train to defeat him somewhere."

"We know," Cindy said. "We'll train you to defeat Voldemort here, in Azkaban."

"You're so sure I'll defeat Voldemort?"

"Yep, the dude's positively ancient. Besides, you have the dementors on your side." Cindy grinned happily. It struck Harry as extremely weird to hear a dementor use the word 'dude.'

"But what about the little problem of me being in Azkaban?" Harry was getting frustrated. They just seemed so sure he could do this. '_Oh, well. At least they didn't expect him to solve all their problems for them with no help and no real training_,' thought Harry, thinking of Dumbledore.

"Simple," Juan explained. "We, the dementors, are going to prove your innocence. It'll take a while because we don't exactly have a free reign, and we are dementors after all; but we should be able to. Plus, you can train as you wait. We no longer affect you, and we'll make sure to bring you some at least half-way decent food; and we'll have time to practice since the aurors only come once a week!"

Harry cocked his head, thinking. "But how will you possibly prove my innocence? I mean, yeah, the evidence is shoddy; but as you said, you're _dementors_. I don't see how you'll be able to do it."

Juan and Cindy shared an evil grin. "You're right; it'll be hard, but we have our ways."

"Well, alright, but how long do you think I'll be in here?" Harry asked. (He had no choice but to believe them.) The dementors might not affect him anymore, but this was still a pretty disgusting and demoralizing place.

Juan looked thoughtful. "If I'm right, this plan shouldn't take longer than two or three years."

"What?" Harry yelped unhappily.

"Hey!" Juan said, shooting him a look. "It's better than a lifetime here." Harry stopped grumbling under his breath. He had a point. Besides, why anger the people going to prove your innocence?

"But seriously, how are you going to prove my innocence?"

Juan flashed Harry a feral grin. "Do you _really_ want to know?" He asked, eyes flashing. Harry decided he didn't want to know. "Okay then," Juan said getting up. "Your training starts now."

"Now?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Mmm-hmm, right after you've eaten. Cindy, you take care of him while I tell the others what's happened." With that, Juan glided out of the cell; and Cindy guiltily held out Harry's breakfast- two slices of stale bread and one moldy banana.

"Oh, um, yum?"

Cindy sighed. "I know its bad, but this is all they send us. We'll try to do better now that you're here, though. None of the elders cared enough to risk it for prisoners. But for you, they will try to get some good food." Cindy sighed again. "I just hate having to feed this crap to people who don't belong here."

Harry looked up at her. "D-do you remember a S-s." Harry swallowed the lump of hurt stuck in his throat. "Sirius Black?"

Cindy smiled fondly. "Yes, I remember him. He was innocent too, poor guy."

'You mean you aren't mad at him for escaping?" Harry asked in surprise.

Cindy coughed and leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, I, er, kinda _let_ him escape." She coughed again. "Please don't tell him about it, okay?"

Harry gave a chuckle but stopped quickly. "I'm not likely to tell him seeing as I'm planning to never speak to him again."

Cindy looked surprised. "You'll have to face him sometime."

"Maybe," Harry said bitterly. "But I when I do, I can't guarantee I won't be yelling; and my fist won't be in his face."

Cindy nodded absently. "Details, details. Besides, they do need to be punished for what they've done to you; but you'll have to forgive them eventually." Seeing the glare Harry sent her way, she hastily amended. "But it's not like you ever have to trust them or be friends with them again. Still, you will need to forgive them. If you don't, those feelings of hate and pain will eat you up inside until you're no better than old Voldemort himself."

Harry stared. "Well, I'll be darned. It's true. Even the dumbest people say smart thing occasionally." (A/N: That is true, believe it or not.)

"I am so smart!" Cindy said indignantly.

Harry grinned suddenly, ignoring her. "I may have to forgive them eventually, but that doesn't mean I can't drive them insane first." Harry went back to his meager breakfast, pondering this strange, new development in his life. He shook his head. '_Only me._'

Dumbledore's POV

Dumbledore sat in his office, stroking Fawkes' head absently. He sighed; so many thoughts were swimming through his mind. Most of them had to do with Harry. Where had he gone wrong? Harry had turned out just like Tom. Dumbledore had thought better of Harry. But what if he had been tricked by Harry, just as Tom had tricked so many before. Harry. Harry. What were they going to do now that he had gone dark? He was the one from the prophecy, so who would save the wizarding world now?

Memories came to him. Harry pleading with them, yelling his innocence, grief and hurt evident in his eyes as the aurors dragged him from his home in Surry. They had arrived just in time to see this, before Harry had been locked in a cell to await his trial. Harry, stone cold and silent at his trial, apathy and lack of will to live (or care) evident in his entire demeanor. He had been resigned to his fate.

Would he not have been joyful to go to Azkaban if he were Voldemort's? And why hadn't Tome tried to break him out yet? They hadn't even used veritaserum. Maybe…No! He couldn't 'what if' himself. He couldn't have taken the chance of creating another dark lord. If Harry were innocent, he might understand Dumbledore's own actions. Dumbledore couldn't bear to think about Harry.

It's that one he'd truly cared about who had rejected him so deeply. Tom, he had never really trusted; but Harry he had trusted completely and wholly. The deepest part inside of him said Harry was innocent, but his rational part told him not to chance it. He sighed. As a leader, he had to make many such choices. He could only hope he was right.

And now, no matter how much he wanted to grieve, he had to make plans. Without Harry in the way, Voldemort was basically free to do what he wanted. What was he going to do next? Dumbledore sighed _again_, feeling more tired and old than he ever had before. Had he done the right thing?

Next to him, Fawkes gave a soft rill and rubbed his head on Dumbledore's hand. Dumbledore smiled. Fawkes still believed in him, and Fawkes is, after all, a phoenix, a pure manifestation of good. Maybe there was hope yet.

Authors Note Numero Two:

Thanks for reading. Please review; I love input. Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, I also LOVE parentheses. I noticed I use them a lot. They just really add to the story quite well, don't they? Until next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Note: Hello, faithful readers. Sorry I took so long to update. I had to go to a wedding out of town and don't own a laptop, so I didn't get a chance to write. Many great thanks to all who reviewed. Guess what, time jump! Don't worry, those of you who hate time jumps. I'm pretty sure this'll be the last one for my story. I just didn't really want to type three years worth of Harry going through his training and Voldemort messing things up for the Order. Anyway, Read On faithful viewers!

Ps. I dedicate this here update to my great friend Maddie, whose birthday is this weekend. Happy birthday, Maddie, though I doubt you are reading this!

**Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. (Not for lack of trying, though.)**

Chapter 4 One Good Birthday Present!

**3 Years Later-**

"Oof!" Harry felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was pushed on to the ground. Harry pushed the sweaty hair out of his eyes to glare at the grinning seven-foot tall dementor. Harry blinked at the grin; he'd been living with dementors for 3 years now, and he still couldn't get used to seeing them show emotions. The dementor reached down and pulled a grumbling Harry off the floor of their training room. They had "borrowed" one of the level 1 security cells for training. The foot thick metal walls were perfect for blocking out the sound of random magical explosions and Harry getting his but served to him on a silver platter in hand to hand combat with the dementors.

Harry was also still unused to his new amount of power. It was constantly surprising him, occasionally doing random things (see magical explosions, paragraph one); but he had mostly learned how to control it and roll with the punches when he couldn't. It really only acted up when his life was in danger. For some reason, it refused to respond to his emotions. (Which Juan said was a good thing, but that irked Harry as he was sure his power just considered his "puny human emotions" beneath its dignity.)

"Good job," the dementor praised. "You almost had me blocked there."

"Almost doesn't mean I did." Harry grouched. He still had no idea why the dementors insisted he learn hand to hand, but he still hated losing.

The dementor sighed; they'd been through this before. "Harry, you are doing exceptionally well for just a twenty year old wizard. I and the other dementors have had hundreds of years of practice; you've had three. Plus, we dementors are twice your size. You don't stand a chance, but you can beat the younger dementors. Be proud of yourself."

Harry scowled and then relented. He felt a bit better about it now. "I know, thanks, Uncle Morty." Harry smiled crookedly. Uncle Morty was not actually his uncle (duh) but was Juan and Cindy's dad, and Harry had sort of been adopted into their family. Right away, calling him dad was out. So was grandpa, cousin, or brother, so they had settled on uncle. Harry grinned even wider as he remembered that Uncle Morty had actually been one of the dementors to attack him and Sirius at Hogwarts.

Sirius. For a moment, Harry's smile faltered. _'No, don't think about him.'_ Harry quickly replastered the smile on his face. Uncle Morty looked at Harry a bit suspiciously, as if seeing the slip, but let it go. Harry barely held in a sigh of relief.

As the dementors absolutely _loved _helping people, they had taken it upon themselves to try to help Harry figure out and deal with every emotion he had towards his ex- friends/family and life in Azkaban. Harry seriously hoped their normal way of cheering people up was better than this. He knew they were trying to help but man! It was annoying constantly being asked to explain every little sigh or frown.

Only a few of the dementors, such as Juan, let him try to work things out for himself, figuring he needed to do this on his own. Harry was grateful for that because he did need to figure things out, but, to be honest, being constantly attacked about it didn't make Harry want to face it any sooner. Many of the dementors, such as Uncle Morty, were not constantly bombarding Harry with questions about his feelings. They usually only spoke up if Harry looked like he needed help. Harry did not mind this much either. What he _did _mind, though, was the dementors, like Cindy, who seemed to think his inner child was in constant need of talking about every single feeling.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He did like Cindy. Very much so, but she could get really annoying. In truth, the dementors were more Harry's family now, than the Weasleys had ever been. They understood him (mostly), and the bond between him and Voldemort, which Harry had learned how to manipulate for himself. This time Harry did allow a scowl on his face.

"Some birthday this is." And it was, indeed, his birthday, his twentieth to be exact.

"Hey," Uncle Morty said, putting his hands up in surrender. "You're the one who wanted to train every day."

"Well, you went full blast today." Harry retorted.

Uncle Morty smiled. "Consider it a birthday present. You know Juan is always trying to get me to fight my hardest."

"Yeah, well, that's Juan; and we all know he's a little off, even for a dementor."

"Hey!" Juan's voice flooded from the door to the training room.

Harry jumped, turned around, and glared. '_Why can't dementors make noise when they move?' _

"I was going to tell you what your special birthday present was" Juan continued. "But now I don't think I will.

Harry shrugged. Knowing Juan, it was probably some sort of prank present. Juan looked quite unhappy at Harry's indifference. He was just opening his mouth to speak when Cindy came up behind him and slapped him on the back of the head.

"You know he won't be interested if you put it that way." She scolded. Turning to Harry, she said, "Harry, our combined birthday present to you, today, is your freedom."

"But it's mostly from me!" Juan yelled in the background. Cindy stomped on his foot.

"What?" Harry felt confused. He was leaving? I mean, he was happy to be leaving Azkaban (as nice as they had fixed it up, it was still dank and depressing); and he had always known he would leave eventually, but this was a lot to take in.

"We proved your innocence, Harry. You're going home. To the ... wizarding world." Cindy's voice cracked on the last two words, and while Harry had never seen a dementor cry, he was sure she would if she could. He stepped forward to wrap her in a hug.

"My home is here." He whispered. **(A/N: Don't mock the corniness!) **"I may be going somewhere else, but my home will always be with you, the people I care about." Whether Cindy was more touched with Harry saying he cared about her or that she was a person, not a monster, Harry did not know.

"Just make sure you come to visit, often." She sniffed. Harry nodded, extremely happy to see her stop crying. He was no better with crying girls now than he had been with Cho Chang fifth year.

"Ok," Juan said, clapping his hands together, "what Cindy here has failed to mention is that they will be here in less than an hour."

Harry looked at the two dementors with wide eyes. "How?"

"Doesn't matter." Juan replied briskly. "Now you must tell me something very, _very _important. Do you want to mess with them when they get here?" The look he gave Harry implied he expected no less from his almost-adopted brother and would have to take a serious personality check on Harry if he said no.

Harry hadn't thought of that. What was he going to do? He immediately decided to ignore anyone he knew personally and freak out the rest. (And quite possibly the ones he knew, too.) He would vent out how he felt to all the ones he was going to ignore later; for now, he just wanted to make them suffer as much as possible; and this seemed like a good way to do just that.

"You know it!"

Juan grinned at Harry's expected reply and pulled his hood up, as did Cindy. Harry looked at them strangely for a moment before realizing something. He was so used to seeing their faces that he had forgotten how wizards react to them. Of course, they wanted to freak whoever was coming to pick Harry up out, but not _too_ much. Just enough to make them question every sane thing they used to think they knew, but soon will not be to sure about.

Harry grinned back and slapped a high five with Juan. "Let's go kick some wizard but!"

**~Sirius POV~**

I was disgusted with myself. I sat in a swiftly moving boat along with my best friend (and resident werewolf) Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore. I mentally cursed myself, calling myself twenty different kinds of stupid. How could I have just given Harry up like that? I should have known. The exact same thing had happened to me! If anyone should have known, it was me. I hadn't even asked for veritaserum. **(A/N: Somebody please tell if that is how you spell that!) **

No, I had just taken the shoddy evidence and believed it without question. How could I not have believed Harry? I knew the kindhearted boy that Harry was, knew that he would never do something like that; and yet… I had taken Harry's trust and just thrown it away like garbage. And the worst part was how hard it was for Harry to trust. I know Harry will probably never forgive any of us ever again, and who can blame him?

I mean, why should he? The wizarding world had just used him as a convenient little pawn and thrown him away at the slightest doubt to his morals. I was a failure as a godfather. Lily and James would be ashamed of me. I had no right to be coming to set him free, no right to hope he was still sane, no right to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could forgive us. And yet, I had to hope.

I looked up at the looming castle of Azkaban. Self-loathing filled me to the brim, mixing with all the other unpleasant emotions already inside of me and leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Would Harry still be sane? Three and a half years in Azkaban was a short amount of time compared to my twelve years, but Harry had far worse memories than me and no animagus form to protect him.

If anyone could survive Azkaban sane, it was Harry. The boy was a walking enigma. You had no idea what he would do, and he could always end up surprising you with his strength. He did things no one else could or would do. I felt sure he would have survived, but would his morals have survived with him? Would he have turned dark?

'_No!' _I silently berated myself. '_You doubted him once, don't do it again.' _

The boat pulled up to shore, and all three of us carefully stepped out on to the barren wasteland that was Azkaban. Harsh memories invaded my mind, but I pushed them away. Harry, this was about Harry. They needed to rescue him, and his sanity, if at all possible, from this horrid place. I looked over at Remus. His face was twisted in the pain and turmoil that I knew coursed through my best friend. I sidled over and put my arm around the despondent werewolf. Remus smiled weakly up at me at the touch.

"Do you think he's alright?" Remus whispered hoarsely, then stopped to consider his words and shook his head. "No, he can't be 'alright'. He's in Azkaban. But do you think he's, well…"

"Sane?" I finished for him. I tightened my grip around the werewolf's shoulders, and I repeated my earlier thoughts. "If anyone can survive sane, he can." The werewolf's slumped posture straightened just a bit and then slumped again.

"But even so, do you think he will forgive us?" What could I say to that? I couldn't lie to my best friend and say 'yes, I think he will,' now could I?

Dumbledore **(A/N: Yeah, you thought I forgot about him… well, maybe just for a few paragraphs.) **watched the entire exchange with a sad expression on his face. With a small, unhappy shake of his head, he turned to the doors of Azkaban. After twisting the key and pressing his hand to the plaque on the door, which was keyed into his magical signature, he pulled open the door to Azkaban.

The sight that greeted me there nearly knocked me off my feet.

**Author's Note Again! Cliffhanger-please don't hate me; I had to end it somewhere. Please review, I love getting those, and could someone please tell me how to spell Luna's father's name. I have no idea and don't want to have to go through the books to find out. I know, lazy me. Anyway, though he won't be showing up in the next chapter, he will show up eventually. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hiya! I'm baaaack! Miss me? Thank yous to all the reviewers; I hold a place inside my heart for each and every one of you. Special thanks to Slytherin66 and Dragonladysally for answering my questions. You guys rock. Now for the next installment of HPATDOA! (haha, I love doing that.)

**Disclaimer: Seriously? Do I even need to put this up here? Everybody knows I don't own Harry Potter, so stop mocking me with the fact!**

Chapter Five

**~Still Sirius POV~**

I think there may have been an audible thud as my jaw hit the ground. There are many things I never expected to see in my lifetime, such as Snivellus on a date, Moony in a bikini, or Voldemort belly dancing, but watching dementors play poker has never been one of them.

Ignoring the disturbing sight for a few seconds, I turned to look at Harry, who was also playing and had _seemingly_ yet to notice us. I searched his face hungrily, taking in everything I could. He had grown several inches and had gained a thin layer of wry muscle, leaving him looking lean and strong rather than thin and starving, as I thought he would have. That was strange but welcome.

He was also remarkably clean despite his disgusting residence, and his hair was rather long and shaggy, but in a styled way. Even though he wasn't looking at us, his green gaze was as piercing, if not more than before. And yet, there was a hard glint in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Looking over at Moony, Dumbledore, and the auror, whose name I had been told but can't remember, I knew that at least Moony and Dumbledore took this all in as well. I turned my eyes back to Harry and the three dementors. They were sitting around a large wooden table, holding cards in their hands. Harry looked completely comfortable sitting there with the dementors, as if he did this every day. He had been staring at his cards for several minutes, his gaze returning several times to the pile of junk in the center of the round table.

Harry was sitting alarmingly close to one of the dementors. Said dementor's hood was turning surreptitiously towards the cards in Harry's hands. Harry scooted away and glared at the dementor, who I swear was trying to look innocent.

"Some of us can win without cheating," Harry quipped, sticking his tongue out at the dementor. I gasped, his voice had gotten deeper and was not rough or scratchy from disuse. Who on earth had he been talking to all this time? The dementors? Not likely.

The auror next to me gave a little cough. Harry either still didn't notice us, or he was doing his very best to ignore us at all costs. How could he bare to be so close to the dementors? Even all the way across the room, I could feel them sucking away my happiness. Or trying to. I was so ecstatic to see Harry alive and relatively sane looking, it wasn't working too well. I watched as a smile slowly worked its way across Harry's face; it made me grin in response.

I sighed in relief. He could smile. Looking over again, I saw the auror staring in disbelief, Remy with a small smile of his own, and Dumbledore with his eye-twinkle on full blast.

Harry looked at the dementor across from him and said with triumph, "Cindy, I'll see your two pieces of lint and raise you one slice of moldy bread."

The dementor, Cindy apparently, slapped its cards down and raised its hands in a universal "I fold" signal as Harry pulled out a slice of moldy bread from who knows where on his person and slapped it down on the pile. Harry looked up then, and my breath caught in my throat, but to my dismay, he looked past everyone to the nameless auror. It was like Moony, Dumbledore, and I weren't even there.

"Hey, Mr. Auror," Harry said, flashing a white grin at the stunned man. Where did he get toothpaste, I wonder. It was a _very _white smile. "Did you know that dementors play poker?" he asked.

The auror shook his head numbly. Harry's grin got wider. 'Yep, but they suck at it." He pointed his thumb at the dementor had had been trying to cheat. "I just took Juan here for twenty maggots." He said this last part proudly. The auror just stood there, mouth gaping like a fish, a glazed look in his eye.

Harry got out of his chair and brushed past me to examine the auror. Two of the dementors followed him. I reveled in Harry's nearness. I wanted to say something, touch him, do anything! But my traitorous body refused to obey my commands.

"I think I broke him," Harry stated, casting a worried glance back t the dementor he called Juan. One dementor (Cindy, I think) came closer, and the auror then seemed to come out of a trance. The dementor slid back beside the other one, who hadn't moved.

"We, er, c-came with o-orders for y-your release." The auror stammered shakily under Harry's harsh scrutiny. "Y-you've been f-found innocent by r-recent evidence and h-have been granted a-a full p-pardon." Man, they aren't making aurors like they used to.

Harry leaned back with another grin. "Well, paint me purple and call me Barney," he wolf-whistled. **(A/N: I was half asleep when I wrote this.) **"It's about time." He looked at the auror impatiently.

"B-but how are y-you out of your c-ce-?"

"Doesn't matter,' Harry interrupted rudely. "Can we just get out of here"

"Follow m-me," the auror stammered.

Harry turned to follow, but I finally found my strength. I grabbed his shoulder to find myself looking into his bright, anger-filled, emerald eyes.

**~Harry POV~**

As soon as they entered the room, it took all my focus not to look at Sirius. I could feel their gazes latch onto me as soon as the door opened, but I resisted the urge to look at their fishbowl faces. There were four of them; I could feel it without looking: some auror, whose name I do not know, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Black. I nearly let out a sigh of relief, before schooling my features into a blank expression. I could just talk to the auror. I had been worried only people I knew would come. Then, I would be forced to break my pledge to ignore them before the time to fulfill it even began.

I moved my gaze from the cards in my hand to the middle of the table. As part one of my rather indefinite plan for revenge, I had convinced Uncle Morty, Juan, and Cindy to play poker with me. Speaking of poker, I felt Juan shift next to me, and my eyes widened in surprise. I should have known he would try to cheat.

I scooted over and glared at him, trying not to let a wry smile compromise my face. "Some of us can win without cheating." I said, sticking my tongue out obnoxiously at Juan. Sirius gasped. I nearly rolled my eyes. Yeah, I can speak. Still (mostly) sane, you idiot!

I heard the auror cough, and I knew I couldn't ignore them much longer. I let a smile grow across my face. I looked over at Cindy in glee. "Cindy, I'll see your two pieces of lint and raise you one slice of moldy bread." I put the bread down on the table.

Cindy slapped her cards down and raised her hands. "I fold," she said resignedly. I looked up, past the traitors to the auror. "Hey, Mr. Auror." I said with a grin.

"He probably has a name," Cindy chided from across from me.

"If his parents cared enough to give him one," Juan shot back at her.

"Juan," she frowned, turning on him. Uncle Morty just chuckled in the background.

Gritting my teeth, I ignored the peanut gallery and went on. "Did you know dementors play poker?" The poor auror jus shook his head. I think I scare him. I grinned wider-this was fun. "Yep, but they suck at it."

I heard Juan give an indignant "Hey!" next to me that quickly turned into an "Ow!" as Cindy stomped on his foot.

Stifling a snort, I pointed my thumb at Juan. "I just took Juan here for twenty maggots." (At this point, I would like to point out that we have never played poker before, and that this whole maggot, moldy bread thing was just Uncle Morty's idea to freak them out even more. I think it was working.)

"Hey, I resent that, and you cheated!" Juan yelled.

"No, he didn't." Uncle Morty and Cindy both said at the same time.

Juan looked at the two, openly aghast, before clutching his chest dramatically and moaning. "Wounded! And by my own family too!" He mock glared at me. "You'll pay for this, Potter, you'll pay." He threatened.

"No, he won't" Uncle Morty and Cindy said simultaneously.

"Again?" Juan cried dramatically, throwing his arms up t the heavens. "Why do you taunt me?" His cries fell on deaf ears as Uncle Morty and Cindy inspected our visitors from afar. I'm actually quite surprised no one noticed Juan's antics, but then again, they all seemed completely focused on me, especially Black. It was rather of creepy.

The auror just stood there, mouth wide open. I barely resisted an urge to tell him he was going t catch flies. I got up and had to brush past Black to inspect to auror. I barely suppressed a shudder. I was _way_ too close to Black for my comfort, but the auror looked like his head was going to explode or something, so it was a necessary evil. Juan and Cindy followed me, but stopped a few feet away from the auror.

"I think I broke him." I remarked to Juan.

Cindy instantly swooped closer to him worriedly. "Is he alright?"

Juan just gave a disinterested shrug said "who cares?" and stayed where he was.

At Cindy's closeness, the auror woke out of his chance with a start. "Oh, good," Cindy breathed, going back towards Juan. Uncle Morty still hadn't moved from the table. Looking back, I saw him just sitting there. I don't' think he cared too much about what was happening.

"We, er, c-came with o-orders for y-your release."

Juan winced in sympathy. "I'd stutter too if I woke up with Harry staring into my face. His face is just that ug-oww!"

Cindy slapped him. "Stop insulting Harry!" she said, as protective as a mother hen. She reminded me distantly of Mrs. Weasley. I stared worriedly at the visibly shaken auror. He must be new…or the auror department was seriously losing its touch.

"Y-you've been f-found innocent by r-recent evidence and h-have been granted a-a full p-pardon."

I leaned back against the nearest wall and gave the auror as kind a smile I could manage. "Well paint me purple and call me Barney." I whistled. (And nearly burst out laughing at the confused looks on their faces. So living with the Dursleys _had_ been good for something. I'm surprised even Lupin and Dumbledore didn't get that.) I still couldn't believe the dementors had managed to clear my name. And, I'll admit, I was kind of (Ok, extremely) suspicious that they wouldn't tell me how they had proved my innocence. It was worrying. "It's about time," I continued.

"B-but how are y-you out of your c-ce-?"

"Doesn't matter,' I interupted the auror. "Can we just get out of here" Please, before one of the idiots over there comes out of his shock and starts hounding me with questions.

"Follow m-me," the auror stammered, walking towards the door. I turned to follow him, when Black grabbed my shoulder.

I glared at him, putting as much animosity as possible into my gaze. Shaking off his hand, I turned away and followed the auror, leaving a crestfallen Black, a broken-up Lupin, and a depressed Dumbledore behind.

'_Good,'_ I thought, in a more vindictive mood than usual. This whole thing was stirring up bad memories and getting on my nerves. _'they deserve to suffer.'_

**A/N: More times than not, apathy hurts more than outright anger. Just something to remember. Anyway, just so you all know, while Sirius is probably (in my opinion) gay, in this he is not gay with Harry. He just really missed Harry and feels super guilty, and I needed an excuse to describe Harry. Personally, I've always liked him, but for my story, he has to be a major idiot. I'll give a metaphorical cookie to anyone who reviews, please. (Hint, hint)**


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Hello there, faithful readers. Thank you so much to all the reviewers. I love the fact that you'll take the time to write down your thoughts about my humble fan fiction, even if it's just a sentence or two. As promised, all the reviewers get a metaphorical cook; they're chocolate chip! Next time, all the reviewers get metaphorical oatmeal raison; so, review! Oh, by the way, to answer HappeeGoLuckee, I have no idea how long this story will go. I'm just kinda playing it by ear; the story writes itself as I go along. Anyway, Chapter 6, people!

**Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Why on earth would it be mine? Well, it's not, so get over it and stop making me write these, darnit!**

Chapter 6 - I'm On A Boat!

**~Harry POV~**

Juan and Cindy followed me outside to say goodbye. Uncle Morty just gave a half-hearted wave from the table before falling asleep. Ha, I knew he was getting old! …How did dementors age? I made a mental note to ask Juan the next time I saw him; I couldn't very well ask him now, in front of the traitors, now could I? And I couldn't' ask Cindy because she'd start going off about 'never asking adding someone how old they are (event though that wasn't the question I asked) because it was rude and tactless and how some dementors would find it racist or something like that.' Yeah, it was better not to ask Cindy at all.

I followed the shaking auror out to where a large, rickety boat as docked. I think it was the same one I arrived in. What, the ministry was so cheap skated they could only afford one boat? Looking around, I inhaled deeply, enjoying the newfound sense of freedom. I hadn't really been a prisoner at Azkaban, but I still hadn't been outside very often. We just couldn't risk someone seeing me, however far off we were from shore, so I can count on one hand the number of times I've been outside in the past three and a half years.

Also, it was extremely nice out, which was weird. It's almost always overcast or rainy at Azkaban, which just adds to the gloomy atmosphere; but today the sun was out. It was bright and warm out, and I savored the feel of the sun on my skin. I had never had much of a tan before, but now I was completely pale. I needed to fix that, or someone was going to mistake me for a vampire, like I once had for Black.

Speaking of Black, I could barely restrain myself from looking back at him as I heard him and the others come outside, careful to lock the door behind them. Truth be told, however mad I was (and believe me, was I mad) at Lupin and Dumbledore for betraying me, I was even madder at Black because he is-no, he had been- the only family I had had left.

I ignored them as the three shuffled past me and onto the boat, casting guilt-ridden glances at me the entire time. I nearly groaned; this was going to be harder than I had thought. The auror settled down on the boat and looked at me expectantly. He was obviously gaining confidence the farther away from Azkaban he was. Darn, and freaking him out was fun, too.

Turning around, I looked over at Juan and Cindy and closed the gap between us, pulling them both into a tight hug. They each hugged back, and when I pulled back, I saw that Cindy's eyes had filled with ghostly tears. I heard a gasp behind me as I reached up to wipe them away and smiled. I tried to think back on what Uncle Morty had taught me about dementors. Apparently, it took times of extreme, extreme emotion to make a dementor cry. I was touched, and also, apparently, their tears brought good luck. Well, I could use all the luck I could get; fortune had never really favored me.

"Don't cry, Cin; I'll be back before you know it; and after five minutes with me back, you'll be ready to dump me off in the wizarding world all over again. Juan and I will make sure of that. Think of it as the calm before the storm."

Cindy gave a watery chuckle before pulling me into another back-breaking hug and whispering, "You'd better be careful, Harry."

After she pulled away, Juan put his hands on my shoulders. Looking back, I could tell that none of the wizards behind me had any idea what was going on or if they should stop it. Juan followed my gaze and chuckled softly before looking at me seriously for the second time since I had met him.

"Do you have a plan, Harry?"

I shook my head. "A rough idea, more like. I need to know what's been going on in the wizarding world before I can make my move."

Juan nodded in understanding. "Yeah, unless Voldemort is even more stupid and narcissistic than we thought, you won't be able to just walk up to him and kill him; he'll have layers of guards and wards and such."

"Yeah, but he's arrogant. He doesn't believe anyone would even think of betraying him because he's so scary; I can use that against him."

Juan looked at me for a moment, face unreadable, before sighing. "We all love you, Harry, and want you to stay safe. You'll win; I know it, but try not to die in the process."

I felt my courage bolster at his words. I wasn't alone in this; and that was the main reason I wouldn't lose. Not only did I have people I cared about supporting me, but I had a reason not to lose. I was the dementor's only hope, and I couldn't let them down.

I set my gaze determinedly. Juan smiled and walked back towards Azkaban, pulling along Cindy, who was shouting good byes and farewells hysterically. Just before he reached the door, Juan turned around to face me and smiled, calling, "I'll be dropping by to visit as soon as you break the curse, Potter, maybe even sooner."

I grinned, pulled myself up in a mock salute, and called back, "Looking forward to it, you nuisance."

As he disappeared, I heard Juan shout back "I'm not the nuisance here, Potter!"

The doors closed before I could yell back any snide reply, and I walked back to the boat grumbling about high-maintenance dementors who always needed to get the last word. Getting on the boat, I sat next to the auror without a name. The seat, incidentally, was as far from Sirius as possible.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked the auror good naturedly. "Let's blow this popsicle stand!"

The auror looked confused but started moving the boat with his wand towards land anyways, and I began humming under my breath as a certain song snuck its way into my brain and stayed there. Looking around, I realized it must have only been through Lupin's and Dumbledore's adamant refusal that Black hadn't approached me again.

'Seems my little good bye was a tad bit too emotional for Mr. Black,' I mused as I noted how Lupin was positioned in a way that seemed to be blocking me from Black and had a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down. I let my gaze wander, as if casually observing the ocean around me; but I knew Dumbles wasn't fooled. (If his eye-twinkle was anything to go by, that is)

I got my first real look at them all day long. Dumbledore looked basically the same. His beard may be a few inches longer, and his face might have a few more wrinkles; but I was pretty sure he had a bag of lemon drops hidden on his person somewhere, so he was essentially the same.

'How long until he offers me a lemon drop?' I wondered absently. 'Can't be too long now, we're been in this boat for what, two minutes now.' 

Dumbledore endured my quick, harsh scrutiny with a genial smile. He probably thought it was a good sign or something. Not even close. I skipped over the unnamed auror, who will be henceforth referred to as UA (Unnamed Auror), because I really don't' care all that much about him, then moved onto Lupin, who was still restraining Black.

He looked even worse than he had at the trial. And the full moon was a full two weeks away! (Yeah, I checked.) His hair was now shaggy and unkempt, and it had turned almost completely grey. He was even thinner than I was, and I had been to Azkaban! (All facts towards the dementors and my immunity to them, I am still quite skinny.) I was still very angry with them, but, when I looked at Lupin, I almost caught myself feeling pity. The light and life (or what was left of it) seemed to have gone out of his eyes. He had let not just one, but two innocent men rot in Azkaban! He had repeated the same mistake he had years ago. (This is when I question taking history classes. They say we're there so we won't repeat past mistakes, but we always do.) That fact, though, I could almost pit;, but looking deeper into his eyes, I could see grim determination. I realized this man was stronger than anyone gave him credit for; he had to be to survive as a werewolf; and he neither needed nor deserved my pity. But I still felt my dislike for him; that was no excuse for what he had done to me.

Finally, I moved onto Black, who was staring at me, wild eyed. His hair was mussed up and even longer now. He had gained some weight, but not much, so his clothes still hung off of him a bit. He had a bit of a tan, and he also had dark circles under his eyes. He obviously hadn't gotten very much sleep the past few days, and wasn't that just _too bad for him._

I leveled a glare his way and felt a wave of satisfaction wash over me as he flinched. Even Dumbledore's stupid smile faltered at my death glare. I turned my gaze over to the fast approaching land. Would this boat ride ever end? I wanted nothing more than to get as far away as physically possible from the people in the boat. (Except, maybe UA. He seems like a nice guy; wish I could remember his name.)

As we approached, I could hear a deafening noise, growing louder and louder. Craning my head, I realized with a gasp that there was a large stage surrounded by a crowd of people set up just a short way from land.

'Oh, no he didn't.' Fudge stood at the stage in front of the podium, trying to calm the excited crowd. I watched as people pointed to the boat, chattering excitedly, and saw the press flashing cameras my way. 'Oh, yes he did.' I felt my anger grow by the second.

Fudge had called together a meeting. I felt my fury rise even higher, and, judging by the way the traitors and UA edged away from me a little, it must have shown on my face. Good. I couldn't wait to get my hands on Fudge. I was supposed to be insane! Or, at least, that's what everyone thought I was going to be! Fudge had called this meeting to save face _and_ to discredit me.

The crowd surged forward as the boat came to land. However, one look at my very sane and furious face, and the crowd pulled back as one, separating to let me through. I stomped onto land; glaring murder at Fudge. At the sight of me, Fudge's face paled dramatically; and the smile dropped from it. He seemed to realize I wasn't quite as insane as he had thought, and I could tell that he knew his career as a politician was over, then and there. Oh, he'd be lucky to get a job as a bus boy by the time I was finished with him. He looked like he could only hope that he didn't lose his life, too.

'That's right,' I thought viciously, pushing toward the stage, ignoring the traitors stumbling out of the boat behind me. 'You're sooooo dead, Fudge.'

A**uthor's note: Kinda short, I know; and it didn't really go anywhere, but the next chapter has plot; and things will move along, I swear! I just needed to set it up, is all. I will try to update really soon, so please, please review. By the way, don't you just love UA? He's one of my favorites. I'm done with him now, but I might bring him in later just for kicks. Anyway, that's for reading. =)**


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Hello there, people! How are you today? See, I have an interest in your personal welfare. Aren't I just the bestest author ever? (_My Sister coughs, "no"_) Anyway, fishing for compliments aside, I **finally **figured out how to reply to reviews, so this time, when you review, if you want to reply just say so. Let's hear a resounding "Yay!" But if you don't say so, I probably won't reply; but, hey, who knows. By the way, I just wrote a one shot, so please read it. It's a goblin love story with Harry/Griphook. I kinda wrote it just to be contrary. Thanks in advance if you read it, and thank you so so so so so so so much, reviewers. Chapter 7, people!

**Disclaimer: It's not mine, so shut up before I set the rabid fan girls on you. (I'll do it; I will.)**

Chapter 7 Fudge Pops

As he cut his way through the crowd, making his way up to Fudge's stage, it occurred to Harry that Fudge had actually done him a favor. Now he had representatives from the entire wizarding world here to yell at as one. Of course, he would have been perfectly happy to set his fury on everyone personally; but this was much less time-consuming. Plus, this way, he could keep his promise to himself and not talk to his ex-friends/family but still be able to make his feelings clear. Speaking of ex-friends, the entire order was seeable at the edge of the crowd. As soon as he caught sight of Granger, the first one Harry could see, he focused his gaze on Fudge and the stage, ignoring the entire crowd.

As he walked up there, Harry quietly reached inside his pocket and pulled out an ice cream Juan had put in his pocket earlier, telling him he might need it later. Harry took off the freezing charm on it, ripped off the wrapper, and started sucking on it. Harry reached the stage, walked up onto it, and just stood there for a while, staring at Fudge and sucking his ice cream noisily. The crowd was deathly quiet. Fudge looked unsure of what to do, with Harry just standing there not saying anything, and glanced nervously over at two aurors on the edge of the stage before clearing his throat and managing to speak.

"Well, er, Harry, my boy, may I be the first to apologize for the wizarding world's wrongful imprisonment of you. There, er, are several matters we need to discuss today; but first of all, how are you feeling?" Fudge's voice echoed loudly through the crowd, yet Harry gave no indication he had heard him. He just kept staring and sucking loudly on his ice cream. What a stupid question; he'd been in **Azkaban** for crying out loud! And, yet, what a Fudge thing to ask it.

"Er, Harry, are you alright?" Harry still gave no answer, and Fudge's face lit up with glee as he realized that, maybe, Harry wasn't sane. Fudge waved a hand in front of Harry's face. "Harry, dear boy, are you okay? Can you underst-!"

Fudge broke off with a terrified yelp as Harry's free hand shot out and grabbed the hand Fudge had been waving in front of his face in a death grip. Harry glared at Fudge over his ice cream and waited until Fudge stopped struggling to finally let go of the minister's hand. Fudge pulled back, rubbing his wrist, a bruise already beginning to form; and Harry noticed the two aurors coming closer, wands drawn.

'Probably to subdue the poor, crazy, and wrongfully imprisoned, yet seemingly violent miscreant on the stage.' Harry thought sardonically before pulling his ice cream pop out of his mouth and speaking. "Yes, I can hear you, Fudge; and no, I have not gone insane quite yet."

"Then why on earth didn't you answer me?" Fudge spat angrily.

Harry gave an evil grin that Fudge seemed to shrink under. "While there are several reasons I could have not answered you, first and foremost being that you're a git, I suppose the main reason is you called me Harry. And not just Harry, but my boy! I am not your boy. I didn't even know you swung that way." Fudge looked completely lost. Harry sighed before saying, quite simply, "Don't call me Harry."

"B-but, it's your name."

"Yes, but you have no right to call me that. Only people I like can call me Harry, and I most certainly don't like you." Harry turned to look at the crowd of people. "The same goes for you too. I can honestly say that I detest most nearly all of you."

"So, wh-what can we call you?" Fudge stammered angrily.

Harry thought on that. "Weeelll, you guy could call me…Mr. Potter…Or, if you want a choice, call me that or Sir Potter his Awesomeness. I don't really care either way."

Fudge took a few moments to control himself before trying to salvage the situation. "Well, then, _Mr. Potter_, on behalf of the ministry of magic, I apologize. I also offer you 1,000 galleons and an Order of Merlin, second class, as reimbursement for your wrongful imprisonment."

Harry snorted and waved his hand dismissively, continuing to slurp on his ice cream. "Just deposit the galleons to my Gringotts account and keep the Order of Merlin to yourself."

The crowd broke out into excited murmurs. 'W-what? You would give back an Order of Merlin?" 'Maybe he really is crazy.' Fudge thought hopefully.

'Man, he stutters almost as much as UA,' Harry thought before saying, "Yep. Who really cares? I don't want any memory of how the wizarding world betrayed me."

Silence once again pervaded, and Fudge looked like he was having trouble figuring out what to say. "Very well th-"

*Slurp*

Fudge broke off as Harry loudly slurped his ice cream. (It's never ending ice cream!)

"Now, we must discuss-"

*Slurp*

*Twitch*

"What are you go-"

*Slurp*

*Twitch*

"Arrgh! What are you eating?" Fudge exploded, finally having enough with the loud slurping.

Harry looked up at Fudge in mild surprise. "Huh? Oh, a fudge pop."

*Twitch*

Harry grinned evilly at Fudge's expression of disbelief and loudly bit the fudge pop in half, slurping the rest down. He tossed the stick over his shoulder, where it "accidentally" hit Weasley (Ron) in the face.

"Anyway," Fudge continued. 'As I was saying before, we need to discuss your future."

"What about it?" Harry asked coolly, quirking one eyebrow.

"Well, you never finished school,"

"And whose fault was that?" Harry muttered under his breath. Fudge ignored him in a rare instance of bravery.

'So, of course, we will need to set up tutors and have you take your NEWTs if you ever want to get a job in the-"

"I don't want to get a job," Harry broke in. "And I think I've got the whole 'magic thing' down; so if that's all, I'll just be leaving now." Harry made to exit the stage, but Fudge caught his arm. 'What is it with people grabbing me?' Harry thought angrily, shaking off Fudge's arm before turning to glare coldly at the man. "What?" You could practically feel the venom dripping off that one word.

"W-we haven't discussed where you'll be staying, and y-you do need to get a job. How else will you pay for your expenses? I'm sure we can set you up with a job here at the-!"

Harry broke in with a glare. "I said I don't want a job, especially not one at your stupid ministry!" Gasps resounded through the crowd, but Harry ignored them. "I don't need money thanks to my parent's vault and the 1,000 galleons you just gave me today. As for where I'll lived…" Harry trailed off, looking thoughtful. Fudge tried to act on that fact.

"See, you have no where to live, the ministry could-"

"No, no," Harry twirled around to glare at Dumbledore, who had spoken up. "Harry should stay with his godfather Sirius Black. That way, he can receive the rest of his magical training."

"No," Fudge spat angrily. "The ministry can provide him a home and a job. One of his superiors can give him a _real_ magical training."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to protest, as did most of the Order; but Harry, having had enough, decided it was time to get his say. He quickly grabbed one of the auror's wands. "_Silencio_!" The crowd went into an uproar. Harry had just stolen an auror's wand and used it to hex the headmaster and the minister of magic!

"Now," Harry said, deceptively calm, silently freezing the two angry aurors. "I don't see why any of you should care where I live, seeing as I no longer want to have a thing to do with you. I am a legal adult now; where I live and how I live is no longer a concern of yours."

"B-but, my boy," Harry growled at Dumbledore calling him 'his boy,'; and Dumbledore hastily amended himself. "Mr. Potter, you have people here who care about you. Will you simply-"

Harry gave a bitter laugh. "People who care about me? Yeah, cared enough to get me sent to Azkaban without a proper trial or veritaserum. They couldn't have cared too much if they abandoned me so easily, could they now?" Harry could see the Order wince visibly in the crowd. Even Dumbledore flinched a little. Harry suppressed a grimace.

'So much for not talking to any of the traitors. Oh, well, I suppose I'll have to talk to some of them, at least a little.'

Harry glared at Dumbledore, who seemed at a loss of what to say, and said coldly, "Besides, all you care about is whether or not I'll kill Voldemort, not me." Many people gasped at Harry using Voldy's name. Harry could also hear Black, Lupin, and the other Order members protesting loudly; but he ignored them, focusing solely on Dumbledore's weak reply of

"No, of course. While we do, that is, we don't…" Harry glared daggers at the man until he lapsed into silence and then turned to address the crowd. **(1)**

"You know, what all of you (the wizarding world, that is) have done to me; I really should just leave you to be taken over by Voldemort. There are only a few key reasons keeping me from happily leaving you to your fate. Number one being that if I do leave you to your fate, and move to, say, America, or somewhere else foreign, Voldemort would probably just eventually come try to takeover wherever I am as well because he's just that greedy; and I'll have to move again. And moving's a pain.

"Number two is the incoming muggleborns every year. They're innocent; it's not their fault the wizarding world betrayed me. They only just discovered it, so why should they have to suffer? And speaking of who's innocent and not, I personally believe that only a few of you (besides incoming muggleborns) are innocent. Why, because everyone but that few somehow supported my being sent to Azkaban, even those of you who kept silent.

Even if you thought I was guilty but never said anything, you're part of the problem, not the solution and are guilty. Even the ministry is guilty. Only the few of you protested my imprisonment and were (probably) ridiculed or punished for it are truly guilt free."

"You speak blasphemy against the ministry of magic!" Fudge gasped out, outraged.

"Fluently," Harry replied smoothly. **(2) **

Silence reigned supreme throughout the crowd as everyone contemplated his words. Granger had started to cry, as had the Weasley girl and Mrs. Weasley. The rest of Harry's ex-friends/family looked down at the ground sullenly.

Harry continued. "And Finally, Number three, I made a promise to some friends of mine from Azkaban who are being oppressed by Voldemort. They're counting on me to help set them free, and I, for one, care for them and trust them, so I will. And I say help, as in I will not go in without any training or knowledge of what I'm facing or without any help."

The Order winced. Dumbledore looked sincerely put out, and Harry felt the intense urge to jump up and down yelling, 'I defeated the twinkle!'

"That is why I will defeat Voldemort, but it will never, _ever_ be for you.'

Harry turned to leave the stage again, when a certain Daily Prophet reporter spoke up. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter, a word to the press, please," Rita Skeeter called from the front row of the crowd. Harry turned to look at her before grinning slightly and going to stand at the podium, pushing Fudge out of the way to do so.

"Why not, Ms. Skeeter." To tell the truth, Rita was one of the people Harry dislike less than all the others. She had never pretended to be on Harry's side and was just trying to do her job and make a living. Harry couldn't completely fault her for that, even if her methods weren't quite the…friendliest.

"Actually, it's Mrs. Skeeter now. I got married last year, but I chose to keep my maiden name." Rita blushed softly.

"Congratulations," Harry enthused, inwardly amazed and not surprised at the same time.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, before I ask my questions, might I just say you are looking remarkably handsome for someone just having been in Azkaban?"

"Oh, Mrs. Skeeter," Harry pshawed **(3) **Flattery will get you everywhere. Please, call me Harry."

Rita smiled slyly. "Only if you call me Rita, Harry."

"Very well, it's a deal." Harry grinned, enjoying the back and forth banter.

"Now," Rita continues. "on to business." She pulled out a pad of paper and a quicks quotes quill. "Harry, do you, as of yet, have any plans for the immediate future?"

"Nope," Harry chirped. "I'm just going to play it by ear for now."

"Okay," Rita said, quill already scribbling furiously. 'Now, do you have any plans for defeating You-Know-Who?"

"Yep, I know _exactly_ how to get rid of Voldemort." Harry said this looking directly at Dumbledore, a pointed look on his face. Rita noticed this with a wry look on her face.

"Next question. How do you feel towards those who betrayed you?"

Harry nearly choked. What kind of question was that? "How do I feel? How do you expect me to feel? They betrayed me. I don't think they even know how fully they betrayed me. I've always had a hard time trusting people, but I managed to put my trust in them, which I did completely and fully. They betrayed that trust. I don't think I can ever trust them again, or forgive them. Actually, to put it simply, I would be happy if I never had to see them again."

"But do you hate them?"

Harry thought on that. All his ex-friends and family held their breath as one. "In a way, I suppose. I understand why they did what they did, but that doesn't excuse it. I still can't help but despise them, and, while I wouldn't call that hate, I definitely want nothing to do with them."

Murmurs ran through the crowd. Harry, while scanning the crowd, could tell that none of the Order knew whether this was good or bad. Rita looked like she was in heaven. Harry knew he was a reporter's dream, what with his conflicted emotions and unpredictability; it made for great news.

"Final question. Do you think you can ever forgive the wizarding world?"

Harry just stared. "Forgive them? Seriously?" Harry snorted. "Like heck I will. You guys don't deserve my forgiveness. I may have to forgive you eventually, because otherwise I might go evil; and that's what Moldy Shorts wants; but that doesn't mean I ever have to trust them again. And if I do forgive them, _if_, it won't be for a long, _long_ time. Maybe I'll move to Bulgaria…I do know Krum…" Harry trailed off, lost in his thoughts, while the crowd went into an uproar. The Harry Potter leave England? Outrageous!

Rita sat down, looking smug and self-satisfied. As soon as she sat down, the other reporters who had been keeping quiet, jumped up, shouting questions. Harry looked resigned for a moment before taking control of himself. "Shut up," he growled. 'No more questions." The reporters quieted instantly under his stern tone. "Now, excuse me as I go mingle with the 5% of you I don't detest as much as I detest the other 95%.

Harry climbed off the stage, thankful no one tried to stop him this time, and walked through the crowd. Suddenly, he spied Luna and her father; and a grin spread across his face.

**Author's Note: Man, super long chapter. Luna and Draco are in the next one though! Thanks for reading! Here's what the numbers mean.**

**(1) Monologue time! Every story has to have a monologue sometime!**

**(2) I just had to put that in there. Can't remember where I heard it, but the exact quote is not mine.**

**(3) That should totally be a word!**

**Now, review, you know you want to. **


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I'm back. Hey, guess what! Because I still have no idea who I want Harry to end up with, I started a poll, so please, express your opinion. I'm not saying that I'll for sure go with the answer, but your input will definitely help me decide. If you have someone else you want Harry to be with other than the choices, let me know, and if I like it, I'll set it up as a choice. I set this chapter up so that it could possibly be a Draco/Harry or a Luna/Harry, and in later chapters I have already planned to set it up so that it could be other things; but nothing is for sure. But this is not going to be some great romance. (I don't think I could write that.) It'll just mention them, maybe a kiss or two, but probably nothing more. Thanks much reviewers, and Read the Chapter!

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter should totally be mine! Oh, but wait, it's not…sadness.**

Chapter 8 Luna, Draco, and Snape, Oh My!

Harry could feel everyone's eyes on him as he weaved his way through the crowd to Luna and her father. As soon as he was close enough, Harry immediately wrapped Luna in a bear hug, surprising everyone except the Lovegoods.

Luna just returned the hug with a smile and said dreamily, "Hello, Harry, welcome back."

Harry gave a laugh. "Hello, Luna, it' s good to see you again."

"How was Azkaban?" She inquired pleasantly, as if asking about the weather.

"So-so," Harry replied, not taken aback in the least, "I got a cell with a view, and the dementors were quite pleasant after an initial rocky start; but the food sucked royally."

"Yes," Luna said, "I've heard that the food there is quite terrible. I would have sent a care package, but I'm afraid those rude aurors guarding Azkaban refused to let it through. I think they're hiding something."

"Oh, well," Harry said with a smile. "It's the thought that counts. And I'm sure they are hiding something. Surprisingly Slytherin, the lot of them." Harry heard a strangled sound from one of the aurors in earshot and mentally laughed. "Oh, thank you, by the way, for your continuing support of my innocence these past few years. I read all of your articles, and they were quite good."

Harry had been getting the Quibbler ever since his inheritance via the dementors, and he had been pleasantly surprised to find it speaking out against his imprisonment at least once a week. These articles were usually written by Xenophilius Lovegood or Luna herself, who Harry knew occasionally part timed at the Quibbler writing articles for her father.

"Oh, so you got the Quibbler?" Luna asked not sounding surprised in the least.

"Yep," Harry replied. "My favorite article was the one where you said Fudge was just using Azkaban for spell testing, and that the dementors were actually just mutated prisoners. **(1)** Juan thought it was hilarious.

"Who's Juan?"

"Oh," Harry said, "he's a dementor. I'm sorry to say they aren't mutated prisoners, but you're close. They're under an ancient curse." Harry whispered the last part conspiringly.

Luna nodded happily. "That makes sense. Anyway, we're glad you could read the articles, aren't we, Daddy?"

"Yes, we most certainly are, Luna, dearest," Xenophilius said, squeezing his daughter's shoulder affectionately before shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically. "Xenophilius Lovegood, my boy. Good to finally meet you. Sorry about you wrongful incarceration."

"It's good to meet you too, Mr. Lovegood," Harry said warmly, returning the handshake. "I love your Quibbler."

"Thank you, Harry; and please, call me Xenophilius. From how much Luna's told me about you, I feel as if I know you."

"Very well, Xenophilius," Harry said politely before turning to Luna. "How goes your search for the Krumpled Hornshack?"

"Oh, not very well, I'm sorry to say. They just hide themselves so well, you see?"

"Well," Harry said happily, "Have you tried looking in Mexico?"

"No," Luna replied dreamily, "Should I?"

"Yep" Harry nodded. "I asked Uncle Morty about them, and he said they originate from Mexico. Something about liking warmer temperature and living in the desert."

Luna's eyes lit up. "We'll have to research that, won't we, Daddy?" Xenophilius nodded his head fervently, already calculating ways to get to Mexico and where they should start their search. He began mumbling something about Mexican legends, and Luna joined in happily, so Harry decided it was time to leave.

"Well, I'll see you guys later. I'm going to go find someone else who I don't completely hate.

With that, an absentminded goodbye from Xenophilius, and a cheery kiss on the cheek from Luna, Harry began navigating through the crowds again. As he walked, Harry saw a flash of red and black hair. Oh, no! The Weasleys and his ex-godfather. Harry looked around frantically before salvation came in the package of a disgruntled, high-class, platinum blond.

Malfoy had grown several inches taller himself and had grown out his blond hair down to just below his ears. He was currently sitting in what could only effectively be described as a "throne." Harry gave a mental snort. Same old Malfoy; status is everything. Harry watched for a moment as he talked with a house elf.

Harry paused to consider his options.

Option 1, Turn around and face the traitors.

Option 2, Leave

Option 3, Make nice with Draco and freak out the traitors.

Option 1 was out right away, and option 2 was out because Harry didn't want to run away, so option 3 it was! Harry sighed. He just hoped that Malfoy wouldn't hex him on the spot for what he was about to do. He then launched himself onto the blonde's lap.

**~Draco POV~ (I love switching POVs)**

I still have no idea why my father wanted my godfather Severus and me to come to this idiotic ceremony for Potter. Well… it wasn't _so_ horrible. At least I got to see Potter diss the Order. The look on Weasel's and the mudblood's faces…priceless. I sat up in my chair, waiting for Severus to get back from talking with Dumbledork. The crowd was in an uproar, looking for Potter.

I could almost feel sorry for him. First he gets betrayed, and now he has to deal with his betrayers hounding him to join their side and forgive them. That would never happen to a _Malfoy_; we're above that sort of thing. I fanned myself discreetly while listening to the mindless idiots around me talk about Potter. Ugh. It's infuriating hearing about him all the time. I sighed dejectedly. (And regally, I might add.) What was taking Severus so long?

"Dinky," I summoned one of the Malfoy family house elves.

"Yes, Master?" She appeared with a pop.

"Go get me a-!" suddenly I felt 150 pounds of black haired, green eyed wizard launch itself onto my lap. "What the heck?" Potter glanced around nervously. "Get off me, Potter!" I yelled, trying to push him off my lap and draw my wand at the same time, but failing. Potter was sitting on top of my wand holster and had hooked his arms around my neck, refusing to let go.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Just go with it, Malfoy; and, please, call me Harry."

"Wha-?" I was still struggling to try to free myself from his grip when I saw Weasel, Granger, and Black push their way through the crowd. My eyes widened in understanding. Oh! He wanted to get away from his traitors. For a second, outrage filled me at the fact that he was using me! A Malfoy! But that quickly faded as I realized how positively _Slytherin_ and actually clever this stunt was. Huh, so Potter had a brain after all. I gave a mental shrug.

I watched as the group stopped and stared, openly aghast at seeing Potter in my lap. Well, two things are for sure. 1) This is _so_ gonna freak Weasel and the other weirdoes out. 2) This was gonna be fun. Besides, it wasn't **that** uncomfortable.

**~Normal POV~ (Switch again!)**

Harry twisted around in his seat on Draco's lap to watch in triumph as Black, female ex-best friend, and male ex-best friend processed the scene in front of them.

"H-Harry?" Male ex-best friend gasped out. 'W-what are you d-doing? And with _Malfoy_?"

Harry ignored him and turned to Draco. It was time for the fun to begin. "Draco, darling," he drawled. Everyone within a 10 foot radius froze, but Draco just looked more amused than anything.

"I see those ministry idiots finally got a clue and let you out of prison." Draco replied, playing along.

"Yep," Harry chirped, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows seductively. "And none too soon, for every moment I spent in Azkaban was a moment my heart has yearned for you. Have I mentioned how simply ravishing you look this evening to my undeserving eyes?"

"No, you haven't." Draco smirked, thoroughly amused.

"Ahh, Draco, love!" Harry flung his arms into the air dramatically. This caused him to nearly fall off Draco's lap, and Draco to have to wrap his arms around Harry's waist, bringing him a tad closer to keep him from falling off. Neither boy looked too upset with this. Harry continued. "My heart's one true desire is you! The one who knew my innocence even in the face of my-"

"Potter, why are you sitting on top of my godson?"

Harry sat abruptly still and slowly turned to face Snape. He could barely contain his glee. This was going to _kill_ Black. Harry wrapped one of his arms around Draco's neck again and used the other to blow Snape a kiss.

"Well, hello, Severus!" He shouted gleefully. "May I call you Uncle Sevvy? With how much _my_ Draco has told me about you, I feel that we're practically family."

Draco looked stunned. Granger just blinked. Black looked like someone had shoved a sock down his throat. Weasley looked like someone had stuffed a live squirrel down his pants. And Snape looked like someone had just told him they had invented "James Potter Day." Draco turned to Snape with a look on his face that clearly said "just go with it."

Snape glanced around helplessly before regaining his composure. "Po…Harry." Harry snickered discreetly behind his hand. Snape could barely get his name out of his mouth. Snape sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. "May I ask again? Why are you sitting on my godson's lap?"

"Because it's comfy, sir," Harry smirked. Weasley let out a strangled sound, and Harry automatically looked over to check that he hadn't chocked on his own spit before he remembered he didn't really care and stopped himself.

"I see," Snape drawled. "And is there any _other_ reason for your cuddling with Draco?"

Harry pondered this for a moment before giving a half-hearted, "He's cute?" This time, Harry heard not only Weasley, but Black gag too. He continued to ignore them.

Snape sighed. "Very well, then, since you have no real reason to be sitting on my godson, as you are _not_ going out," Snape paused. "You aren't…going out, are you?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope, or at least, not… yet." Draco didn't look too put out by this. Harry heard a strangled cry and a thud behind him. It seems male ex-best friend had just passed out, and everyone, in their shock, had failed to catch him. Snape looked like he was struggling to keep a gag down. It took a few seconds, but he eventually managed to bet the reflex and continued.

"V-very well, then, get off my godson's lap!"

Harry got off and turned to give Snape a hug. "Oh, you want one too."

"NO, Potter, I don't!" Snape kept Harry at arms length.

Harry pretended to cry. "Now I know that I have a heart because it's breaking. Oh, well," He turned to give Draco a hug before taking a quick glance around. Everyone seemed to be in shock, including Draco. Harry clapped his hands together cheerfully. "Well, this has been fun; it truly has; but I must be going now. House hunting and all that; it's such a pain, but you have to do it. So, I will see you all later." Harry turned to look at his traitorous ex-family. "Or, maybe not all of you, if I have any luck at all. Which I really don't, so see you later!"

With that, Harry turned on his heel and apparated away, leaving behind a completely stunned and confused crowd. 'Hmm,' he thought absently as he felt himself jerk away, 'Not a bad day's work.'

**Author's Note: Sorry, kinda a filler chapter. But never fear; the next one has lots of plot!**

**(1) Hey, it's possible. Maybe I should write a story about that someday…**

**Thanks for reading, now Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review! Cookie! Review! Review! Review! Review! Review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I was at camp, and then I had tennis tryouts. I made varsity, by the way. I will try to update more often, but I start school next week, so who knows. I made this chappy extra long as an apology; it was originally going to be two chapters. So, the next ones won't be nearly so long, especially because I have school. Thank you so much all my reviewers and all my pollers. (The people who took my pole, and yes, it's s real word. Look it up in Webster's if you don't believe me.) I will leave the pole up until my next update, which should be in a week or so, so if you want me to have your input, take the poll. Anyway, onward with Chapter 9!

**Disclaimer: Seriously? Do I look like J. K. Rowling? Don't answer that; you don't know what I look like. But take my word for it; I do not look like her. And since I do not look like her; I can not be her. And since I cannot be her; I can not own Harry Potter. It's not rocket science, people!**

Chapter 9 My Home Sweet Home

"Now what do I do?" Harry mused aloud, as he walked out of the dark London alley he had apparated to. Harry really had no idea where he should go. He needed a place to stay; that was for sure. But where? The Order of Idiots was certainly searching frantically for him now, as Harry was sure the death munchers were. Death Eaters didn't worry Harry in the slightest; he could just keep a lookout on Voldy's mind for where he was going to send them. That would be easy…. but the Order?

Harry had no doubt it had grown, probably now with people he wouldn't recognize; and they had probably lost a few members too. From what the dementors had told Harry while he was incarcerated, Voldemort had been pulling out all the stops because Harry had been out of the way. Huh, the Order had probably been trying to use Harry's release to boost morale.

'I guess my little speech probably didn't have the intended effect, then,' Harry thought smugly, 'Oh, well, you reap what you sow. Besides, I did say I would kill Voldemort, even if it insulted them in the process. They should just be grateful I didn't leave them to Moldy Short's mercy.'

So, if the Order had grown, they would have new members who could watch Harry without him even realizing it… that sucked. Harry reviewed his options. If he bought a house, they would be able to trace his purchase back to him. Plus, he didn't have any money. They would also probably be checking abandoned houses and apartments, too. He couldn't stay at the Leaky Cauldron or some other hotel, either. They'd be able to find him easily, and he was going to be busy; he couldn't afford to be interrupted in the future. Besides, he **really** didn't want to see anyone.

What he really needed was somewhere he could use a fidealous charm on. But he didn't trust anyone enough to give his new address to. Harry cast his mind back to all t he places he'd known with the charm on them when it came to him.

'Oh, I've already been there; I'd be able to get a steady source of food and information; and I can keep an eye on the Order. Plus, no one would ever expect me to go back there. Besides, think of all the revenge I could get on the side…it's perfect!'

With a sly grin, and a turn of his heel, Harry apparated silently to the doorstep of the one and only Number Twelve Grimlaund Place. What most wizards didn't know was that if you concentrated hard enough, you could apparate without making any noise. It took some extra power, sure; but, hey, it was well worth it. Harry quickly cast an invisibility spell on himself. With a little bit of extra power, no one, not even Moody with his funky eye thing, would be know he was there. Harry was about to (silently) apparate inside, when he noticed the wards surrounding the house.

'Very clever, Dumbles,' He thought in silent, if grudging, appreciation.

The wards were so carefully hidden in all the other magics surrounding the house, that most wizards wouldn't notice them. Harry studied the wards carefully. They weren't spelled to keep people out, but to alert the residents inside when someone came in. They wouldn't' need protection charms because of the fidealous charm. Harry searched painstakingly along the wards, looking for any crack or hole, no matter how small, that he could slip through. It took a few minutes, (Dumbledore had been **very** thorough) but Harry finally found a small microscopic crack in the wards. Harry carefully opened the crack just enough to be able to get through, but not enough to alert anyone to the flaw. He then apparated through the crack…right into Kreacher's room.

Unfortunately, what with him being Harry Potter and all, and since this was **his** life, wasn't it, Kreacher couldn't just be off "cleaning" the house, now could he? No, he just had to be sleeping in his room…right where Harry apparated. Also unfortunately, what with Kreacher being a house elf and all, he just **had** to be able to see through Harry's charm. Not even Harry, with all his magical might and training, could fool a house elf. Their magic were simply too different to work well against each other, especially with Harry having dementor-style magic thanks to his training.

"Ooof!" Kreacher woke with a high-pitched squeal as 150 lbs of renegade wizard fell on top of him. Harry quickly rolled off the elf and clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent him from making any more noise. The house elf immediately glared death at Harry and began squirming loudly to try to break free, all the while with Harry making little shushing gestures and saying calming little things.

The elf kept fighting until Harry suddenly got the nerve to shout, "Regulus Black!"

The elf stopped squirming immediately. "What?" he squeaked.

Harry turned his eyes to the heavens, thanking them silently for dementors who seemed to know far more than they really should. "Regulus Black, your master. I knew him, and I know what he was trying to do. I'm here to help finish what he started. Are you in?" It wasn't **really** a lie, was it? I mean he kinda sorta maybe knew Regulus in a far removed way.

Kreacher just stared at Harry for a few moments. "…You knew Master Regulus?"

"Well, not personally; but I know all about the locket."

The elf's eyes widened in surprise; then, they automatically glanced towards a rumpled corner of rags in his room. "You know…how to destroy it?"

Harry nodded firmly. "I know how to destroy it." At this, the deranged house elf broke down into hysterical sobs.

"Kreacher tried to get rid of it; he really did! Master R-Regulus said to get rid of it, and Kreacher tried; but he, he just couldn't!"

"It's okay, Kreacher, you can stop crying now." Harry tried fervently to hush the loud sobbing house elf. Thinking quickly, he cast a quick silent _muffliatio_ charm.

"I will help you complete your master's last command. Can you show me where the locket is?" Kreacher looked at Harry distrustfully. "Please." Harry enthused, letting desperation color his voice.

Kreacher stared at Harry before seeming to decide that anyone who knew about the locket and sounded truly desperate was trustworthy. Go figure. "Here…" Kreacher slowly moved over to the pile of rags and pulled out a silver locket with an's' on the front of it and handed it carefully (maybe even lovingly) over to Harry. Harry eyed the locket with dislike before pocketing it and turning back to Kreacher.

"Thank you so much, Kreacher; Master Regulus would be proud of you." At this, the demented house elf broke down into sobs again. It took Harry quite a while to quiet him down. As soon as Kreacher stopped sobbing, Harry looked him in the eye. "Kreacher, I need a place to stay right now, while I complete you master's task. May I stay here, in the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?" (Yeah, that's right, the capital letters are _audible_.)

Kreacher looked taken aback and flattered that Harry had asked _him_ for permission. "Sir is too kind. Kreacher is sure Master Regulus would wish for you to stay here. It would be Kreacher's honor to take care of one of Master Regulus's followers."

Harry felt a tad disgruntled at being called a follower but chose not to comment on it. He really needed to stay here. "Do you have some room here that no one goes in, or at least not often?" Harry knew it was a big house, but a lot of people would be staying there.

"There is Master Bernard's room. _They_," the word was spoken with venom and disgust, "never go in there because the late master was forever suspicious, hiding traps and spells. _They_ are afraid they might miss one when cleaning and decided to just leave the room alone…cowards. Kreacher knows all the traps; he could show you how to avoid them."

Harry grinned widely. "That would be wonderful, Kreacher, thank you. Where is this room?"

"Down the main hallway, up the stairs, and the last room on the left, sir."

"Could you maybe go ahead on up there and disable all the taps. I'll meet you up there, but first I have some business to take care of."

"Yes, sir," Kreacher apparated with a pop up to the room, and Harry took off the _muffliato_ spell.

Carefully and silently, Harry apparated to the kitchen, taking a position in an unused corner. The Order members had arrived back at headquarters and were meeting there. Harry noticed that his two ex-best friends were joining them, and that several Order members were missing. Tonks wasn't there, and neither was Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, or Mad-Eye Moody. Strangely enough, there were no new Order members there. Mrs. Weasley was cooking dinner busily while everyone else sat around the table. Harry listened for a few seconds, and a smirk stretched over his face. He had apparated into a conversation about himself.

**(A/N: I was going to stop here, but I decided what with the wait, yes, two weeks is a wait to me, and school coming up that I might as well post two chapters. Enjoy.)**

"He hates us, Moony. He hates us, and I, for one, can't blame him!" Sirius Black ranted despairingly to the werewolf. Lupin just nodded his head in agreement. Everyone in the room looked put out. Silence reigned, except for Sirius muttering about hate. Dumbledore just sat there thinking. Weasley twin 1 looked over at Weasley twin 2.

"Well, Forge, I, for one, feel quite proud of the little bugger right now."

"I agree completely, Gred."

"Why are you proud of him?" Male ex-best friend piped up. "He just told us that he wanted nothing to do with us, and then he – he – he started flirting with Malfoy. And he was even nice to Snape! He completely snubbed us and hates us. How on Earth can you be proud?"

The twins let out dual laughs, startling everyone in the room into looking at them in disbelief. "Don't you think there was a reason he was flirting with Malfoy and being civil with Snape?"

Understanding lit in Lupin's eyes. "He figured doing that would upset us even more than telling us that he hated us. And it worked. Everyone's been infuriated at the thought of him forgiving those who he used to hate and not forgiving those he liked."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we've been played." Twin 1 whistled in appreciation.

"Like a violin, my brother," Twin 2 responded. "A brilliantly played prank, we commend you, Mr. Potter, wherever you are."

Harry had to admit, he was feeling a tad bit disappointed that they'd figured it out so quickly. Oh, well, at least he'd gotten to see them sweat a little. Besides, he had to be a little impressed the twins had figured it out. They had always been some of his favorite people. Hmm, out of all the people there, Harry felt they were the two he probably hated the least. Maybe he should tell them he was there; they, if anyone, would find the humor in him staying here. Plus, he could take his royalties from their business…no, he couldn't risk it. They were still loyal to Dumbledore, and, besides, they had already betrayed him once. Who's to say they wouldn't do it again. He still didn't suppose he could truly hate them, though; but he still didn't like them. Harry turned his attention back to the conversation. Freckles (the newly dubbed Ron Weasley) was looking confused…again.

"Wait, so you mean Harry doesn't actually like Malfoy? He was just doing it to get back at us?"

Granger looked thoughtful. "Could be, but I bet you he doesn't dislike Malfoy as much anymore. He may even like him now, but romantically or platonically, I have no idea. I suppose he would prefer someone who had openly disliked him rather than people like us who had cared for him and then betrayed him."

Freckles looked disturbed at this thought, but Harry had to admit Granger was right in some ways. Harry would rather spend time with Draco than with his ex-friends, but did he like Draco…? Harry was interrupted out of his thoughts when the missing Bill Weasley walked into the room, looking haggard and put out.

Immediately, Black jumped up out of his seat. "Did you find him? Do you know where he is?" he questioned frantically.

Bill Weasley shook his head sadly and sat down in a chair. Everyone heaved disappointed sighs, and Black slumped back down into his seat. Harry stifled a snicker, and Lupin looked suspiciously in his direction. Oops, Harry had forgotten about his enhanced werewolf hearing. He would need to be more careful if he was going to be staying here for any extended amount of time, which he certainly hoped he wouldn't be.

"I checked his Gringotts account, and there hasn't been any activity other than the 1,000 galleons being put in. I also asked one of my buddies at the housing agencies, and Harry hasn't been there. I have Fleur keeping watch at the bank, and my friend agreed to watch the agencies."

'Is that ethical?' Harry wondered for a moment before dismissing the thought; since when had Dumbledore ever been completely ethical? Harry then looked down at his clothes. They were rather grimy from Kreacher's "room" and the boat ride. He sniffed; he could use a shower.

Black looked outraged. "He has no money! He can't buy himself any food, and he has no place to stay! What is he going to do, sleep in an ally somewhere? We asked him to stay here; even if he hated us, why didn't he come?"

Lupin, ever the voice of reason, patted Black's shoulder comfortingly. In truth, he felt just as angry as his best friend; but he had to insert some logic into the conversation. "We didn't ask him; we ordered him. That would be a major turn off. Besides, even if we had asked, he would have said no. We hurt him, and he basically views us as…well, not the enemy, really, but close enough. Would you really go stay with your enemy, no matter how disgusting the thought of sleeping in an alley is? No, you wouldn't; and neither would Harry; he has more pride than that."

"Anyway," Arthur Weasley said, speaking for the first time all night. "I'm sure that if Harry could survive 3 and ½ years in Azkaban, he could survive one night alone in London. Besides, dinner is ready, isn't it, Molly?"

"Yes, dear," Molly Weasley said quietly, subdued for once. Everyone looked expectantly over at Dumbledore.

"I agree with Arthur; it is late, and we can discuss this and the search more tomorrow. But I must say this; we have hurt Mr. Potter, very badly. While I believe we should keep searching for him, I also believe that he will come to confront us when he is ready. Until then, I'm afraid he won't listen to a word we say. However, we need to keep trying to provide him with whatever aid we can. He is our last hope for defeating Voldemort, but, that aside, he is still a young man that we all care about who is trying to find his way in this world. Meeting adjourned."

Harry let out a strangled choke that caused Lupin to glance suspiciously over at his corner again. He'd expected Dumbledore to say they should search for him, but he hadn't expected the old man to warn them (even if just a little) to respect Harry's privacy. But, in the same breath, he'd told them to keep bugging Harry! That was so…Dumbledore. Still, Harry had gotten some food for thought; he hadn't thought Granger or Lupin would be able to understand him so well. He needed to watch out for them, especially Lupin. If he wasn't careful, they might trick him into forgiving them when he didn't want to do that. Darnit, he hated these people, so why did some of have to be so, so…likeable? He hated them, hated them, didn't he?

'Darnit, get out of my head, Cindy!' Harry screamed internally, sure this was Cindy's fault somehow.

Harry looked up from his internal struggle to see the people leaving and to find Lupin sniffing suspiciously near where he was. Oops, time to go; Azkaban had changed his scent enough that Lupin probably wouldn't recognize it. But, still, he was sure he smelled familiar; and he didn't want to take any chances. Harry skirted around the werewolf and dashed silently through the open door up the stairs. He wanted escape so quickly, he didn't notice his invisibility charm wear off as he crossed the hallway. He had just about reached Bernard's room, when-

"H-Harry?" Male ex-best friend stood, wide eyed, on the other side of the hallway, on his way back downstairs from the bathroom. "What are you doing here?"

Thinking rapidly, Harry raised two fingers and waved them in front of Freckles' face. "These are not the droids you're looking for." **(1)**

"These are not the- wait, what, Harry?"

Harry heaved a sigh and looked at a very stunned and confused Weasley, raising his hand. "It was worth a shot. Darn Jedi mind powers; I **will** master you yet! Oh, well, _Obliviate! Confundus!_ **(2)**That's what you get for calling me Harry without my permission." Harry sent Freckles downstairs and quickly opened the door to Bernard's room without recasting the invisibility spell. He was greeted with the sight of Kreacher…cleaning. How strange. "Hello, Kreacher, thank you for cleaning up."

The elf looked up in joy. "Oh, is Sir done with his task downstairs?" Harry nodded. "Good, good, Kreacher will show Sir around. **(3) **Kreacher has keyed Sir's magical signature into all the traps, so that they will not bother Sir; but will deter any unwelcome guests."

"Thank you, Kreacher, good job." The elf positively glowed at the compliment.

Kreacher showed Harry about the fairly large room. It had a bed in the middle. (Kreacher had changed the linen…just for Harry.) Kreacher showed Harry to the four alternate escape routes from the room and the hidden door to a small training/panic room. There were a fully automated kitchen, sneakscopes, and other dark magic detectors everywhere. It reminded Harry vaguely of the Mood-imposter's office. Kreacher had already taken the liberty of making Harry some good-looking tomato soup, which he told Harry to help himself to.

Harry started eating while Kreacher showed Harry the wardrobes full of clean clothes he could use and a small private owlrey, complete with one small barn owl he could use to send letters. Harry wondered vaguely what had happened to Hedwig before giving his attention back to the elf. Kreacher then showed Harry a small illusion on the wall which, when undone, showed a final room filled with gold; apparently, Bernard hadn't even trusted Gringotts. That solved Harry's money problem, but man! This guy had been paranoid! Smiling, Harry turned to an anxious-to-please Kreacher.

"Thank you, Kreacher; it's perfect. Could you possibly set me up with an anonymous subscription to the Daily Prophet?"

"Yes, Sir, of course, Sir. Kreacher will leave Sir to sleep and will wake Sir in the morning."

"Good, thank you again, Kreacher." The elf disparated with a pop that went unheard. Harry wondered why before he realized the entire room was warded and had silencing charms around it. Man, had that guy been paranoid! He was worse than Moody! This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

Exhausted, Harry crawled into bed and let sleep overtake him.

**A/N: (1) Just so you know, if you didn't already, this fanfic will be filled with random and famous quotes as such used above. I do not own any of said quotes, got it?**

**(2) Hey, isn't **_**Confundus**_** just a lower power and legal version of the **_**Imperio**_** spell? Seems like it to me.**

**(3) It must be fun talking in third person. Maybe I should try it out sometime.**

**Hi, thanks for reading Chapter 9. It was hard describing Ron without calling him Ron. There are just too many Weasleys to just call him Weasley. As to why I don't use any of the traitors' first names alone except when it's in their POV…well, it just wouldn't fit the story. You'll know when, and if, Harry starts forgiving some of them when I use their first names. If you have any ideas for what to call someone, (no inappropriate ones, please) I would love it if you shared them with me. Until Next time,**

**Review, please, I don't know if my poor heart could take it if I didn't get another review. So, please, so I don't get a heart attack from loneliness, die, and can't finish the story, REVIEW!**


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Arrrrgggghhhh! Okay, so I know I told you that I would pick a romantic interest for Harry by now, but I just can't decide. So I am going to leave the poll up for one more week and try really, **really** hard to decide. Please help. The main problem with me writing a HarryLuna is that I'm not sure I could pull it off. Luna is very hard to write romantically; it's just the way she is. I don't know why, but I feel like a HarryDraco would be a lot easier. Oh, and just to specify to all you HarryWerewolf fans, the werewolf would be a guy. You will actually meet the possible guy in this chapter. Let me know what you think about him. I just don't like girl OC's for some reason. They tick me off…maybe because they're usually all Mary-Sues or trying way too hard not to be Mary-Sues. So, please, help, by review and by poll. By the way, my sister keeps telling me she wants Harry to get shoved up against a wall and have the life snogged out of him by Draco, and I said no. (Why? I have no idea. I guess I just don't feel like it.) So there are officially no more walls in my story. They are just wizarding illusions of walls. You will never know the difference because no one will get shoved up against one. Anyway, thank you so much all my reviewers. And keep reading! I will figure out the pairing eventually.

**Disclaimer: Seriously, I don't. I'm serious, I don't own Harry Potter! Stop asking me already! And you, the lawyers, be gone from this happy place! I put this up; you have NO CASE! Muhahahahaha!**

Chapter 10 I Met a Werewolf at a Bar 

"-ir…sir…Mr. Harry Potter, sir, you need to wake up."

"Mmmblfgh." Harry rolled over and pulled his pillow over top his head nearly smashing the house elf trying to wake him in the process. Kreacher continued to try and wake up Harry, this time, more forcefully.

"Harry Potter, sir, you told me to wake you up." Kreacher shook Harry forcefully, causing him to groan and bury his head even further under his bed covers.

"Go away, Kreacher, it's too early." Harry moaned pitifully; it had to be, like, 6 a.m.

"It is 8:30, Mr. Potter,"

'Lies!' Harry thought peevishly.

"And you copy of the Daily Prophet is here. You told me to wake you when it came, so wake up!" In actuality, Harry had never said that, but Kreacher didn't care.

"Marghlth!" Harry mumbled as he tried unsuccessfully to press the off button on the elf by numbly tapping the top of Kreacher's head with his hand. Kreacher stepped back with a sigh snapped his fingers with a crack. "Kreacher what are you doing!" Immediately, Harry's entire bed flipped over, spilling him onto the cold, unforgiving stone floor.

"I is getting Sir up," Kreacher responded, sounding smug. Harry picked himself up off the floor and moved over to a table set up next to his bed covered in a small breakfast of scrambled eggs, orange juice, toast, and a copy of that day's Daily Prophet. Harry moved to take a bite from a piece of toast when he noticed Kreacher still watching him, unblinking.

"Uh, thanks, Kreacher, you go back to, er, sneaking around the house slimily, or whatever it is everyone here thinks it is you do."

Kreacher gave a nod and a bow. "Kreacher will continue to fool the blood traitors and filth so as not to let then know of Master Harry's presence." He agreed.

"Good," Harry said cheerfully, "And don't let the filth get you down!" Kreacher gave another bow and popped out of the room. Harry then turned his attention to his breakfast and the paper. Mouth full of toast, Harry picked up the front page and read the headline.

The-Boy-Who-Stayed-Sane Speaks Out!

By Rita Skeeter

_The Boy-Who-Was-Betrayed, Harry Potter, yesterday was escorted out of Azkaban and into a press conference by his traitorous ex-family and former mentor Professor Dumbledore. Despite his wrongful imprisonment by the bumbling Ministry of Magic officials and his gut wrenching betrayal from his former friends and family, Mr. Potter has miraculously managed to survive unscathed. At said press conference, Mr. Potter displayed his animosity towards his former teachers, friends, godfather, and the British wizarding community as a whole. _

_Professor Dumbledore, Minister Fudge, and Sirius Black tried to force our martyred, young hero to resume his magical training at Hogwarts and live with those who betrayed hi;, but our gallant hero refused. When questioned as to where he would go, Mr. Potter truthfully replied that it was none of their business as he is officially an emancipated adult. He even hinted that he may like to, in the possible future, move to different country in hopes of a fair and understanding wizarding community. _

_The Bulgarian Minister was quoted after the conference to say, "This would never have happened in Bulgaria. We take care of our own and conduct __**proper**__ cases, not half-baked ones like England." _

_After putting them in their places, Mr. Potter graciously allowed this humble reporter to question him. Harry has no immediate plans for the future or You-Know-Who, but he told this reporter that, despite the quote un quote "differences" he and the British magical community have had, he will defeat You-Know-Who, but not for us. Mr. Potter claims that You-Know-Who's defeat shall not be for the British wizarding world as a whole, but for the "innocent" muggleborns and a mysterious group of people he promised to defeat him for. _

_How does he mean to accomplish this task without accepting the support of the wizarding community? And just who is this strange group of people he's close to, and how did he meet them while he was in Azkaban? _

_This reporter wants to know._

Harry nearly snorted his orange juice out of his nose and succeeded in spilling it over the table on down his leg. Cursing profusely, he stood up and wiped off the table and his pant, all the while trying to comprehend what he'd just read. Had _Rita Skeeter_ just written a decent article not defaming him at all _without_ being blackmailed? And Harry was actually starting to genuinely like her – or at least respect her.

So pigs **do** fly!

Shaking off his surprise, Harry finished off his breakfast (without spilling anything else) and went to go take a much needed shower – he had been too tired to do so last night. As he basked in the warm water, Harry decided to start planning his next move. **(1)**

First off, he needed allies. They didn't have to be completely trustworthy; they only had to be trustworthy enough that he'd know they'd do what he said. Well, even if he were considering the Order (which he wasn't), that would count them out right then and there. He tried to think back to one of the Prophet articles on Hogwarts he had read a year or so ago. What had it said? What was – Oh! Right, it had spoken about Luna taking over the positions as the muggle studies teacher at Hogwarts, as well as writing articles for the Quibbler on the side. So he _did_ have someone one the inside at Hogwarts.

Good, he was going to need to go there soon to find the Diadem (which the dementors had only said was in Hogwarts – how unhelpful.) and to get a Basilisk fang. Even the dementors didn't know a spell that could destroy a horcrux. Stupid Voldemort. Why couldn't he just have decided to be a normal maniac and not split his soul into pieces? He probably just didn't want to "regular." Stupid pride, but then again, pride like that is a common thing, so wouldn't that just make Voldemort "normal" or "common"? Hmm, food for thought.

Now, he needed to find an ally in Voldemort's castle. (Yes, he had gotten a **castle** since Harry had been in Azkaban. Actually, it was more of an armed fortress. How medieval. The dementors had showed Harry what it looked like in their memories, and he strongly suspected Voldemort had asked Count Dracula for design advice.) He wasn't planning on going there until the very end, but if he got an ally now, his continuous successes would be able to even further convince them to stay joined with Harry, as he would seem even more powerful and likely to win.

The dementors wouldn't count as an ally. Not only were they more like family, they would be being kept under constant surveillance, so they wouldn't be able to tell him all the secret places of the castle, or where Nagini is, or sneak him in, or important stuff like that. Hmm. He could always try to black mail Draco into joining him, (Setting aside the fact that he wasn't nearly as horrible anymore, Harry wasn't sure he'd join his cause anyway. Still … it'd be funny to see his reaction.); but Draco would only be a lower-level death eater because of how young he was, and not of much use. He just hadn't been at it long enough to be in Voldy's secret circle, **(2)** but, still, he would be a good connection to the lower death eaters. Maybe Harry could enlist his help to find possible traitors among the bunch who could join Harry and help him into the castle as well. Harry made a mental note to visit Draco later.

But, still, he need some sort of … of, minority group. A group being oppressed, that would always be oppressed, even under Voldemort's reign despite what he says. A people group looked down on, feared, disliked, that found it hard to get jobs, houses, just to live; but who? Then it hit him.

Werewolves.

They were perfect, and if he could only find the right argument, he could easily sway them to his side. Slowly, a plan began formulating in Harry's mind. He grinned widely; this could work awesomely. Harry reached over to turn off the water and scrambled out of the shower, mentally thanking its miraculous powers profusely. Drying off quickly, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and pocketed a few galleons. Turning on his heel, he set off on his search for the main werewolf community.

**(3)** 'You Know,' Harry mused absently as he surveyed his surrounding area, 'Apparating is really convenient, but you'd think wizards would have thought of how to make it less uncomfortable by now.'

Harry really didn't enjoy apparating, but, hey, it was still better than flooing. Harry had apparated to Celsburn Alley, the wizarding equivalent of the slums of London. He was outside the _Bloody Claw_, an infamous werewolf haunt. Harry quickly transfigured himself a long trench coat with a hood and pulled the hood up to cover his face. He also transfigured himself a pair of sunglasses.

Putting them on, he noticed that he was getting strange looks from the weirdos on the street. He repressed a chuckle as an old lady on the side of the street wearing strange robes that looked like they were covered in some type of fungus and who was selling what looked like rutabagas with eyes on them that glared at him. He walked up to the door of the tavern (skirting nervously around the Lady's cart and jumping when one of the rutabagas hissed at him) and opened the door.

It was dark and musty and smelled faintly of blood and cigarettes. (Not the kind Mudgungus smoked, though. It seemed even this crowd was more refined than him.) There was a mean-eyed bartender glaring at him from across the room. The room was noisy and filled quite well with every unsavory character you could think of. The many tables all had at least one person at them and were all beaten up, (the tables, not the people…though they weren't exactly new looking either) as if fights here were extremely common.

Harry made his way over to the bar, knocking into the table of two seedy looking goblins on the way, who sent murderous glares his way. Harry quickly moved along, weaving through the crowded tables. He didn't need a fight … or at least not yet. Stepping over some drunk passed out on the floor, Harry plopped down onto a chair at the bar and flashed the disgruntled barman an award winning smile and extending 7 sickles.

"One firewhiskey, my man!" Harry really would have preferred a butterbeer, but he doubted they even had that stocked here. The bartender looked at Harry suspiciously before taking the money and pouring him a drink. Harry leaned over his drink and looked around between sips, people watching for werewolves.

How was he going to tell if they were werewolves, you ask? It's simple. When a werewolf joins a clan, they get a tattoo to prove that they're part of said clan. The type of tattoo depended on the particular clan, and it was always right on the cheekbone of the werewolf. Most clans weren't very big, but Harry was looking for a particular clan.

The West End Clan was one of the largest clans out there, with around 100 werewolves; and they were known supporters of Voldemort. Perfect allies for when he wanted to sneak into Voldy's castle. Harry glanced around, looking for someone with a star with 8 points on their cheek.

Let's see, circle, triangle, two circles, wait, star! Harry craned his neck to look at the girl passing by's cheek, and, to his dismay and embarrassment, he fell out of his chair.

'Darnit,' He thought blushing furiously on the floor as the bartender glared fiercely at him, 'I just humiliated myself! And only for a star with 5 points.'

"Is the floor _really_ that much more comfortable than these chairs? I could believe it, though." Harry heard a deep-throated chuckle above him. Looking up, he saw a tall, slim frame, short, dark hair, bright, blue eyes, and an 8 pointed star!

Harry stared, wide-eyed, at the werewolf standing above him. He certainly looked out of place in this cesspool. Well, he wasn't exactly rich-looking; but his clothes were nowhere near as threadbare as Lupin's had been; and he didn't look very exhausted at all. All this told Harry that he was probably way up there in the clan hierarchy. Harry felt a grin spread across his lips. Perfect.

"No, I just thought I'd give it the floor a go, though, just to see. I think they're about the same." Harry smirked, eyes dancing playfully. The stranger let out another chuckle, drawing eyes to Harry and himself. The man reached down his hand and pulled Harry to his feet, but when Harry tried to pull his hand back, the man refused to let go. Raising one eyebrow confusedly, Harry offered up another grin. "My name's Harry."

The man smile seductively (Yes, seductively.) and reached down to kiss Harry's hand. "Lucas, au chante." Harry's eyebrows shot up to the roof. A gay werewolf? And he was flirting with him? What was it about Harry that seemed to make people think he was gay?

"I'm not French."

"Really," the werewolf purred. "You could have fooled me. After all, they are infamously beautiful."

"Save the pick up lines for some other guy." Harry smiled politely. "I'm straight." 'Or at least I was the last time I checked.'

"Really?" Now it was the werewolf's turn to look surprised, but he covered it quickly and flashed Harry another smile. "That's okay; I've turned plenty of handsome young men, such as yourself, around for the other team."

This time, Harry shot the man a glare. "Not this guy, you won't. But you will help me out with something else, won't you?"

"Anything."

"I need to meet with your clan leader."

"Mmm … not that. How do you know about me being in a clan, or a werewolf for that matter? Not many outsiders know what our tattoos mean."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Outsiders?"

"Non-werewolves."

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Man, and you guys wonder why most of the wizarding world dislikes your kind. You just keep distancing yourselves. You're practically asking for it."

Lucas bristled at this. "It's not our fault. We didn't' ask to be oppressed and hated like this. We – "

Harry sighed again. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. 'My life sucks, and it's not my fault. Pity me; pity me.' Whatever. The truth of the matter is that you guys aren't doing anything to make it better."

"And what can we do?" The enraged werewolf glared at Harry angrily. Lesser werewolves would have attacked Harry by now.

"You can do a lot of things-look! I didn't come here to argue with you about the way you werewolves live your lives; that's what I came to do with your clan leader."

"Huh? You want to meet with our leader **just** to argue with him?" Confusion clouded over the anger on Lucas' face.

"Not to argue, discuss. Look, I want to meet with your leader to talk about another option for the werewolf community rather than just joining Voldemort. I need your kind's help, and you need mine."

Lucas looked at Harry curiously. "And who are you to give us help?" Harry let out another angst filled sigh and pulled back his hood. Immediately, people began crowding around and shouting his name, as per the usual. However, unusually, these people looked like they'd rather kill Harry, than fawn over him.

'Oh, well, that's different.'

Lucas looked completely shocked out of his mind. As two goblins Harry had bumped into began advancing on him, Harry decided it was time to go. Grabbing the astonished werewolf's hand, Harry quickly apparated away. **(4)**

"Ugh," Harry let go of Lucas as soon as they both arrived, stumbling to the ground. Apparently, side-along apparation wasn't just hard on the person being apparated along. Harry took a few breaths to clear his head and looked over at Lucas, who was staring at Harry in amazement.

"You – "

"If you say, 'you're Harry Potter!' I swear, I'm gonna slap you, werewolf or not."

"But you are!" Lucas leaned in to get a closer look at Harry. "Wow, so you do have a scar."

"Moving on," Harry laughed, "Look, can you – I can't believe I'm about to say this – take me to your leader?"

Lucas let out a snort of laughter before looking closely at Harry again, as if judging his seriousness. "You really want to help the werewolves?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, all my feelings on your attitude aside, you don't deserve this life; and I want to help you change it."

"Okay," Lucas said, pulling Harry out of the alley they were in. "I'll take you to see my father."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Your father? You're related to the leader of the West End Clan?"

Lucas gave a small smile and a shrug, pulling Harry's hood back over his head and weaving his way through the crowd to some unknown destination. "Not by blood, but when I was turned as a kid, he took me in."

"I see," Harry said, yelping as he narrowly missed colliding with a cart some seedy-looking old man was pushing down the street. "And what is your father's name, and what should I call him?"

Lucas thought on this. "I guess you should call him Lord Rupert. We werewolves aren't' too big on titles, but it'll be good coming from you. You need all the help you can get if you're going to convince him about whatever this little scheme of yours is."

"No last name?" Harry questioned.

Lucas shook his head. "Most werewolves renounce their surnames after they're bitten because their families turn them out. Mine did."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. Lucas pulled him into a dark alley and all the way down to a brick wall. "Where are you taking me?"

"To see my father." Lucas drew a wand out of his pocket (he was wearing muggle clothes) and tapped it on the ground beneath the wall. **(5)** Immediately, a staircase opened up. Lucas cast a _lumos_ and dragged Harry down. The entrance disappeared behind them.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as they moved through a maze of tunnels.

"These tunnels were created hundreds of years ago by goblins during one of those thousands of wars they had. They were eventually forgotten until, one day, a werewolf looking for a place to change found them. They stretch all the way around London, both wizarding and muggle. We werewolves use it to get around without being heckled by wizards."

"How long is it until we get to your clan's court?"

"Oooh, did your research, now didn't ya. Remind me to ask you later where you learned all this stuff. Don't worry; we'll be there soon."

Lucas took a sharp left, dragging Harry behind him. "Are you sure you know where you're going?" Harry asked worriedly.

Lucas let out a bark of laughter. "Don't worry; I'm sure. We won't get lost and become trapped in here forever or something."

"If you're sure…" Harry trailed behind Lucas through the dark cavern; the only light coming from the tip of Lucas' wand.

**Alternate Ending**

"Lucas!"

"What?"

"We're lost!"

"No, we're not; I just don't know where we are."

"Arrrrrrggggghhhhhh! Stupid werewolf!"

And so, tragically, Lucas and Harry get lost in the tunnels, trapped for what seemed to be forever. Summoning food and water, they managed to survive until, one day, 40 years later, Lucas finally found the way out…right back to where they had started from.

At this point, the two boys had, deciding they were forever trapped, legally married themselves to each other using a spell Harry had learned from the dementors. (Juan seemed to think it was very important Harry learn this spell for some reason.) Stuck together for good, they went off in to find out what had happened in the world since they had been gone.

As it turns out, while Harry had been gone, the wizarding world had turned to Ron, who had been killed a few weeks later in a tragic hot dog cart accident. (How a hot dog cart randomly appeared in Hogwarts, the world will never now.) Hermione, in her sadness, had become a nun, living in a monastery in Switzerland. Strangely enough, becoming a nun was the only way to escape the Dark Lord's wrath, as he wanted nothing to do with nuns. Go figure.

Voldemort, after killing Ron, went on to conquer the wizarding world, enslaving all creatures. He named the new world Voldetropolis. Death eaters ruled provinces of the world under him, and their dental plan was found to actually be quite good. The rest of the Weasleys were killed in a "freak" accident involving Draco Malfoy, a house elf, a rutabaga, and lots and lots of butterbeer.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin eventually were captured and are now for sale in a local pets store. Dumbledore died of shock when he found out that Tom Riddle and Voldemort were the same people – he chocked on a lemon drop. Luna goes off in search of the infamous snipe soon after Voldemort came into power. After proving it's existence and discovering that it was an extremely smart sentient being, she and Hagrid – who joined her as her assistant – became famous zoologists and used their riches to prove the existence of more and more previously thought non-existent magical beings. Many people heavily believed that Voldemort only allowed them to live for stress relief through laughter. (Although no one has ever seen the Dark Lord laugh … or no one alive, at least)

Hogwarts was run by the same teachers, except Severus Snape became headmaster; and Gryffindor students were officially all declared "pompous nitwits." Snape and McGonagall married happily and she retired to raise their 2.5 metro sexual boys. Dolorus Umbridge became the new transfiguration teacher.

Draco Malfoy died of heartbreak and loneliness, as his only one true love (*cough* Harry *cough* *cough*) was missing. Dobby became the head of household at Malfoy residence in his absence.

Since they were legally married and stuck with each other, Harry and Lucas ran away to Bulgaria to live the rest of their lives incognito as llama herders. Eventually, business for llama milk boomed; and they became multi-millionaires. (Apparently, Lord V had a fetish for it and made it the national drink of Voldetopolis.) They lived happily ever after and had 4 children, who took over the family business.

The End **(Not really)**

**Author's Note: (1) Because we all know you get your best ideas when wet. It's true.**

**(2) Gosh, that sounds like Voldy has own secret club of exclusive friends. Come to think of it, that's kind of what the inner circle death eaters are. I mean, they all have to be pureblood, have some big, long family name, be related to their spouses, (All those pureblood have to be at least, like, second cousins or something) and have money. It's just another way to make himself seem better than others. Man, he must have low self-esteem.**

**(3) Ha! I finally figured out how to make a page break. No more squigglys for me. And, yes, before you ask, computers hate me; and I know next to nothing about them.**

**(4) Yay! Apparation solves every problem!**

**(5) Or illusion of a wall. Remember, walls don't exist anymore in this story.**

**I combined another two chapters today, because the one chapter alone was way too short. Be happy. I actually had already prewritten a lot of my chapters before posting this story, but I only have, like, 2 and 1/2 of the prewritten left even though I keep writing throughout the week, so after I run out, I may have to cut my updates back. School and tennis come first; remember that. It's the way it goes, so just remember that even if I don't update for a while, I will never ever abandon this story-my sister would never let me, and I would never let me. Well, now that that depressing and boring (I'm sure someone out there has just fallen asleep on the computer reading this) part is over, what did you think of Lucas? ood romantic possibility? Personally, I like him. Hope you enjoyed, and Review! Now! My magical hypnosis commands you!**


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: The people have voted! And I have finally decided! This is now officially a HarryLuna! Yay! Whooo! Cheers all around! Sorry, all you slashers; but I finally decided on Luna. Don't worry, though, Draco and Lucas are still gonna be good friends with Harry. Thank you so so so so so much, all of you who polled. It has officially been taken down and you're votes really helped me decide. Special thanks to Slytherin 66; you gave me some good ideas for the HarryLuna, and I think I know how to write it now. Thanks, also, to all my reviewers; I welcome all comments and questions. Anyways, here's Chapter 11.

**Disclaimer: How many of us fanfiction readers/writers aspire to own our favorite series? A whole lot. How many of us do? None. Things aren't gonna change any time soon, so no, I do not own Harry Potter. *A sad fanfiction disclaimer***

Chapter 11

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"NO."

"Are we there yet?"

"NO! Sweet Merlin, you're being so annoying. I'm not sure you're worth pursuing. Are you always like this?" Lucas said, looking at Harry in mild irritation.

"Pretty much all the time, so you can go ahead and stop pursuing me now." Harry tried not to look _too_ hopeful.

Lucas looked Harry up and down and gave an appreciative smile. "I don't know; you still might be worth it."

Harry just glared. "Flirt as much as you want; just take me to the court."

Lucas laughed, still pulling Harry down the dark corridor. Harry groaned. This was taking_ forever_. They must have been down here for an hour at least. Suddenly, Lucas stopped again in the middle of the hallway. He touched his wand to the wall, **(1)** and another staircase opened up, shedding light down the corridor.

Lucas turned off the light on his wand and quickly stuffed it in his back pocket. Then he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him up the stairs. They came out in a large lighted hallway made out of dirty, white marble.

"Where are we?" Harry asked hesitantly, not sure whether they were there yet or if they had longer to go.

"Yep, this is the werewolf court, or, at least, a hallway in the werewolf court building. My dad should be in the room down this hallway and through the door to your right, talking to emissaries, making decisions, and being, well, leaderish."

"Er, ok," Harry said with a smile. They were _finally_ there.

They were walking down the hallway when, suddenly, a group of teenagers Harry assumed were werewolves came out of a door to the left and started approaching him and Lucas. Harry felt Lucas stiffen a little before relaxing and smiling at the group. Harry immediately pulled his hood up to cover his forehead and hair before looking at the group interestedly. He felt like he was on some sort of spy mission, deep in enemy territory, and was about to be compromised. It was silly, he knew, but then again, more than half of the werewolves here would just _love_ to rip his throat out; so he had the right to feel a little paranoid.

He studied the group approaching them. There were three of them, two boys and a girl. One of the boys had an arm casually strung around the girl's waist. He was tall and thin with short black hair and brown eyes and a face that looked as if it smiled easily. The girl had long brown hair and grey eyes. The last boy in back had light blond hair and blue eyes. HE looked like an even angstier and moodier version of Draco Malfoy. Huh, so there were people like that wherever you go. The boy in front stopped chatting amiably with the girl when he caught sight of Lucas.

"Lucas, hey, how are you, man? I thought you were going out to the club today." The boy ran up to Lucas with a huge smile, dragging the girl and boy along with him. Lucas let out a laugh.

"Hey, Connor, good to see you too." He stepped forward and smiled at the girl and Mr. Dark and Brooding. "Hi, Lexy, Jeff. How you guys doin?"

Lexy, apparently, gave Lucas a big smile and a hug and a "Good, Lucas." Jeff just nodded his head towards Lucas, who looked like he hadn't expected any more than that. Jeff? A werewolf named Jeff? You'd think this would surprise Harry more, but with after "Juan and Cindy the dementor," Harry found very few names that misleading.

"Anyways," Connor cut into Harry's thoughts excitedly. "Answer my question. Why are you here? You were just complaining the other day about how you're always stuck in here, and now you come back willingly on a day you have permission to not be here. Seriously, what's up?"

Lucas gave an exasperated sigh and pointed his thumb towards Harry. "I met him at the club, and he needs to talk to dad." All three of them looked suitably shocked.

"But, Lucas," Lexy began cautiously, "You hardly ever take people to see your dad. You hate being used as an errand boy, and when you do, they're always, like, _way_ up there in the hierarchy."

"Yeah, who's he that you'd take him to see your dad just after meeting him in a bar?" Connor asked, staring at Harry curiously. "You're usually so careful who you take to talk to him. I mean, I can count on one hand the amount of outsiders you'll take to see him." Lexy nodded in agreement, and Jeff just stared at Harry suspiciously. Lucas sighed again.

"He's - Mrrrgh –!" Harry stepped forward, covering Lucas' mouth and reached his free hand out towards Connor.

"Tim the Enchanter, nice to meet you." Lucas snorted under Harry's hand, and Harry sent him a look that dared him to argue. Connor looked at Harry strangely before shaking his hand, as did Lexy.

"Well…my name's Connor; this pretty lady is Lexy, and the grouch in the back is Jeff. So how'd you convince Luc to bring you here?"

Harry grinned. "I was at the bar looking for someone from your clan, fell off my chair; and Lucas helped me up. Then I saw his tattoo, and we, well, let's just say I gave a convincing argument as to why he should bring me here." The three stared at Harry disbelievingly, and Lucas snorted again under Harry's hand.

"Yh anff ef o mi and ow, rry." He mumbled under Harry's hand.

"What?" Harry quirked an eyebrow, removing his hand.  
"I said, 'You can let go of my mouth now.'" Lucas turned to his friends, grabbed Harry's hand, and started walking again. "Look, I'll tell you guys the full story later; right now, I need to get H – Tim to my dad, okay?" By the time he was finished speaking, Lucas and Harry were already halfway down the hall.

"Okay," Connor called, "But I want all the detail later. Bye Tim!"

"It was nice meeting you, Tim," Lexy yelled back. Jeff just glared. Harry glared right back and was happy to see the boy look away after a few seconds. Lucas looked at Harry in disbelief.

"You just pit-glared Jeff. That's impossible."

"Yes, well, impossible things tend to happen to me, remember?" Harry snapped back, a little snappishly. His self-respect had just taken a swan dive. 'Tim the Enchanter. Oh, just kill me now,' Harry thought miserably.

Lucas led Harry to the end of the hallway, and they walked through the door…right into the middle of a werewolf council meeting. All the inhabitants of the room stopped and stared immediately upon the intrusion. Harry quickly surveyed the room. The man Harry assumed was Rupert, Lucas' "Father," was sitting in a large chair in the middle of the room talking with a balding werewolf standing next to him. Harry noted there were four other werewolves in the room.

Two were guards, mirroring the ruler's chair. The next one stood across the room, and Harry recognized him. It was Fenrir Greyback. Good thing Harry had a hood. The next man, standing opposite of Fenrir, was … oh, come on!

'Someone must _really_ hate me up there.' Harry grumbled, eyes turned skyward.

It was Remus Lupin. Thank God for hoods! Harry turned to hide behind Lucas. All the people in the room stared questioningly at the two boys. Rupert sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Lucas, why did you interrupt our meeting; and who is that?" Lucas grabbed Harry out from behind him and pushed the reluctant boy up towards the ruler, following closely behind. Harry kept one eye on the werewolf. He wouldn't put it past Lucas to cop a feel while he was up there. Luckily for Harry, though, Lucas had all his attention focused on his father, face serious.

"Father, I brought him here because he has a proposition for you. Now, before I tell you who he is, or he tells you his proposition, you need to promise me he'll have diplomatic immunity. Meaning that no matter what, you have to let him leave here safely." Harry felt a newfound respect for Lucas. He hadn't even thought about what might have happened if the talk had gone south. Rupert looked at Harry and Lucas appraisingly before sighing again.

"Very well, Lucas, I promise – "

"NO, wizard swear, an unbreakable vow." Rupert looked extremely surprised at this, but conceded any how, allowing Lucas to cast the spell on him.

"I, Rupert, lord of the West End Clan, promise to allow this young man to leave here safely, no matter how our negotiations go."

Lucas nodded approvingly and smiled, breaking the spell. "Well, then," Lucas reached up to Harry and knocked off his hood, as Harry protested. What was the point of a hood if you just tell them who he was? Harry heard a gasp and a growl from behind him. "Father, this is Harry Potter."

**Lupin POV (Yay! Perspective change!)**

I listened as Lord Rupert and his steward talked over the rising food prices. I was there as a representative for the light side and the Order. We know the West End Clan had already given themselves to Voldemort, but, still, they were one of the largest werewolf clans out there; so we had to try. It was very boring. I focused more on the … beast besides me, Fenrir Greyback.

I wanted nothing more than to hex him into oblivion. He was the one who turned me! I felt a snarl rising in my chest and tried to suppress it when, suddenly, the door slammed open; and the lord's son Lucas came in, dragging a strangely familiar looking boy with him. I sniffed the air delicately. The boy's scent wafted towards me. He smelled familiar. He smelled like home, like pack. I tried to concentrate on where I'd smelled this before, but I just couldn't figure it out.

Everyone stared at the two for a moment before Lord Rupert pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. I don't blame him. From what I've heard, his adoptive son gets into quite a bit of trouble, so this must be usual for him.

"Lucas, why did you interrupt our meeting; and who is that?"

I watched Lucas push the boy out from behind him and up towards his father. Lucas looked at his father, serious for the first time in the several times I'd seen him. "Father, I brought him here because he has a proposition for you. Now, before I tell you who he is, or he tells you his proposition, you need to promise me that he'll have diplomatic immunity. Meaning that, no matter what, you have to let him leave here safely."

I looked at the unknown boy in surprise. Who was he that the son of the clan's leader needed to condition his protection? What did he have to fear form werewolves? (Besides the obvious, I mean.) Whoever he this boy was, he had to be important.

Rupert sighed again; I felt for him; I really did. "Very well, Lucas, I promise – "

"NO, wizard swear, an unbreakable vow." My eyebrows shot up incredulously. Lucas had interrupted his father, (something that I'd never seen done) _and_ he wanted him to swear an unbreakable vow. Those were, well, unbreakable. Rupert looked as surprised as I was.

"I, Rupert, lord of the West End Clan, promise to allow this young man to leave here safely, no matter how our negotiations go."

Lucas looked quite relieved at this. "Well, then," he reached up and pulled the hood off his protesting companions head. "Father, this is Harry Potter."

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Harry. It was Harry. That's why he smelled so familiar. But wait, it wasn't just that. I'd smelled him somewhere recently, but where? He looked good, especially for someone with no money or (as far as we know) place to stay. I felt a flash of panic rise at the thought of Harry sleeping on the streets, but I pushed it down. He was also wearing new clothes. I immediately thought of transfiguration before I remembered he didn't have a wand. I wondered a second if he stole them before I banished the thought from my head. The Harry I know wouldn't steal…but then again, I don't really know this Harry. Did I ever really know Harry? I mean, I helped send him to Azkaban. I know that without a doubt, if I really had known Harry, I would never have thought he was guilty.

I looked at him longingly. We needed to talk, to figure things out. We needed to come to some sort of understanding. And most of all, I have things I need to tell him, things that he needs to know in order to defeat Voldemort. I don't care if he never forgives us; he's still my cub, pack, family; and I will protect him.

Harry looked extremely annoyed at Lucas. He looked around the room, and when his gaze rested on me, he glared. I winced involuntarily. I couldn't blame him for being angry, hurt, and disgusted; but, still, the blatant hatred in his gaze hurt. Suddenly, I heard a snarling to my left. Turning, I saw Fenrir Greyback baring his teeth at my cub. Before I cold even draw my wand, he launched himself at Harry, wand out, and teeth bared. But then, before I could blink, the two werewolf guards slammed into Fenrir, holding him at bay. Snarling, insults and obscenities burst form his throat as he tried to get at Harry. The lord Rupert growled at Fenrir, eyes flashing dangerously.

"I gave my word that this visitor, Harry Potter or not, would not be harmed."

"But he's the Potter brat. He's the one the Dark Lord wants. It's my duty as a death eater to deliver the brat to him. You are a supporter of the Dark Lord; you should –"

"I should what? Break my wizard's oath? Be quiet before I make you leave." Rupert turned to look at Harry, who was glaring at Fenrir. Rupert didn't look angry at Harry, just puzzled. I felt relief wash through me at this. "And you. What proposition do you have that's so important that you have my son risking himself _and_ _you_ by bringing you here?" Harry glanced around the room suspiciously.

"Before I tell you, can we be alone? I don't want … certain people to hear it." He looked at Fenrir when he said that, but, I swear, he glanced towards me as well. I couldn't help flinching. The guards holding Fenrir positively bristled at this, and Fenrir snarled again. I think I may have whimpered. Rupert looked hesitant at this, and Harry sighed. "Look, Lucas can stay, seeing as he is your heir and all; but can't you make everyone else leave? Yes, even the guards. Surely you two big manly werewolves can handle one puny little wizard like me? I mean, I don't even have a wand. It was snapped, remember?"

I couldn't help it; I flinched. My cub was out there, alone, without a wand. And it was our entire fault, mine included. That went against every protective instinct inside my body. Rupert sighed exasperatedly.

"Very well," he summoned more guards with a snap of his fingers. Immediately, Greyback and I (Ugh, I hate being associated with him, even just in a sentence) began yelling in protest. The guards pulled Greyback from the room and began removing me too.

"Wait, wait, Harry, please!" I cried desperately, trying to reach Harry. He just looked anywhere but me. As they pulled me away, I liked to think that maybe, just maybe, he felt bad about sending me away. But, somehow, I doubted it. And who could blame him?

**Author's Note: (1) Which still does not exist. He touched an **_**illusion**_**.**

**So what did you think? The Lunamance won't be for another couple chapters, but it will be a HarryLuna. Bye, keep reading. And review if you dare. (Please dare)**


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Hi! Gotta love, love, love Labor Day weekend, dontcha? Thanks, all you reviewers out there. I really appreciate it. Even if what you have to say is something short like or just a word or two, I love getting reviews. It really brightens my day whenever I get one, so thank you all so much. Continue onwards for chapter 12.

**Disclaimer: It's sad. J. K. won't even let me just **_**borrow**_** Harry Potter. Not even on a holiday. *sniff***

Chapter 12 Werewolf Relations

Harry grimaced and shook the sight of Lupin's pleading face out of his head before turning to look at Lucas and his father.

"For all the trouble you've been, this proposition had better be good." Lucas said dryly, looking at Harry.

"I agree," Rupert remarked, looking at Harry pointedly. "What is this 'amazing proposition' you have for us?"

Harry grinned. "Okay, let me just start by saying that I understand how you guys feel. You've been oppressed, hated, called names, denied basic essentials and jobs. I know; I've been there." Both Lucas and Rupert looked at Harry in disbelief.

"But you're Harry Potter," Lucas spluttered. "How on earth would you know how we feel? You're the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry gave a snort of ironic laughter and a sad smile. "Yeah, I lived with relatives who hated me and abused me. My bedroom was a cupboard under the stairs until I turned eleven. I was constantly being told what a worthless freak I was. I know how you feel."

The two werewolves just looked at Harry in complete shock, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why did _everyone_ always assume he lived his life in a palace as some sort of a pampered prince? Lucas stepped forwards towards Harry worriedly.

"Did they ever … you know … hurt you?"

Harry nearly choked. "What, No! They never touched me that way or otherwise. The worst they ever did was maybe shake me up a bit. Or deny me food for a while … no biggy."

Lucas and Rupert looked like it was a big deal to them. "Harry," Rupert said very carefully, "you need to understand, to werewolves, our cubs are everything. We wouldn't ever think to do something such as that to a child, no matter how _we_ are treated."

Harry just shrugged. It was over and done with; that part of his life was finished. For a brief second, he wondered what they were doing. They had probably thrown a party when they'd found out he was in prison. Maybe he should visit them, just to bring them down a bit; hearing he was free and healthy would definitely do that. Rupert looked like he was going to say more, when Harry continued his point from earlier, before they'd gotten side-tracked with his home life.

"Anyways, like I was saying, I can sympathize with you. But I have to say, the way you guys are treated – it's partly your won fault." Both werewolves started growling in protest, but Harry plowed on. "You aren't doing anything to try to stop the way people think of you. In fact, if anything, you're encouraging it! Constantly butting heads with the ministry, doing illegal things, not socializing with anyone other than werewolves, joining Voldemort. See where I'm going with this?"

Harry was pleased to see that neither Lucas nor Rupert flinched in the slightest when he said, "Voldemort." He was less than pleased, though, to find them practically snarling at him. Harry had no doubt that if they had been in wolf form, they would have been snarling.

"And just what do you expect us to do, _Harry Potter_?" Rupert spat his name as if it disgusted him, all sympathy for him gone in an instant, replaced by anger. "Just roll over and let the ministry continue to oppress us? Not fight back? Let them starve us and exterminate us? Keep us from having jobs, homes, or families? They would never accept us if we did try, which we have. With Voldemort, at least, we will not be _as_ oppressed."

Harry grinned and clapped his hands together, earning himself two vicious glares. "See, no matter what happens; you're always going to be a minority. Always persecuted, disliked, and feared by the public. I don't blame you for not trying; but still, you're wrong about one thing. With Voldemort, things will be even worse than they are now. At least here, you are mildly tolerated; with Voldemort, you will be treated as slaves or worse as soon as he wins. Voldemort hates anyone who isn't a pureblood wizard, and werewolves will be no different."

"Then what can we do?" Lucas growled out, visibly irate. "If we are to be hated whatever happens, whatever action we take, **what can we do?**"

"Easy," Harry said, "you need to break free from wizarding society."

"What?" Both Lucas and Rupert looked at Harry in confusion.

"Break free from the wizarding society," Harry repeated patiently. "No matter what you do, you will be a minority, _until_ you decide to make a change. Make your own government. Make the wizarding world stop ignoring you. Prove to them that you deserve to be treated as equals. I know for a fact that there are enough werewolves in the world for you to take a stand; you just need to come together."

"You wish to start another war while we are already in the middle of one?" Rupert gasped out incredulously. Harry shook his head.

"No, not right now. I'm afraid we'll have to wait 'till Voldy is six feet under before I can help you start your own society. I'm a little busy right now, and, besides, if he were alive, it would just complicate the matter. Also, I'm pretty sure it won't turn into a war. The wizarding world won't want another war after just having one, and they probably want nothing more than to get werewolves out of their society. Besides, how can they deny you your own government when you've got the savior of the world, slayer of Moldy Shorts, backing you? They won't know what hit them."

Lucas looked impressed – that could work – but Rupert still looked at Harry suspiciously. "And just what's in this for you?"

Harry smirked. "Well, besides turning the world upside down, I need a favor." Rupert started growling again. "Now, don't be like that. It won't be hard; it probably won't even be _that_ dangerous." Rupert looked skeptical at this. "All you have to do is get me into Voldy's castle. I know you, as one of his allies, - _*cough* minions *cough* _- have access."

"And how, if we were to do this, would we keep Voldemort from finding out. Fenrir has, no doubt, already told him that you came here to try to make a deal with me."

"Easy, just act. Kick me out of here making a big fuss, calling me names, the whole shebang. Even Voldemort won't be able to question why you don't harm me, thanks to Lucas here."

Rupert looked at Harry calculatingly before nodding his head. "Very well, swear it, an unbreakable oath."

Lucas cast the spell while they swore. When it was over, all three walked over to the doors. Harry turned to Rupert. "Before you kick me out in a fit of righteous anger, I have one question. Team Edward or Team Jacob?" The two werewolves exchanged confused glances. Harry went on. "I've always been partial to Team Jacob myself **(1)**, but a lot of people are Team Edward."

"Er, okay," Rupert said hesitantly, obviously fearing for Harry's sanity. "Erm… Team Edward."

Harry stared disbelievingly for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Were werewolves really _that_ far removed form society? Laughing, Harry just pulled the two befuddled werewolves to the door.

Remus Lupin sat in a corner in the long hallway outside the leader's room, waiting for Harry to come out so he could try and talk with him. He sighed; they were taking forever in there. Luckily, Greyback wasn't waiting with him, as the guards had been forced to pull him into the courtyard and outside the hallway, as he had kept trying to get back into the throne room. Lupin sighed again; he was beginning to fall asleep out here.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud clang, startling Lupin into falling off the wall he had been leaning on and onto the floor. He looked up in surprise to see Harry being dragged by one arm by Rupert. Lucas followed; both had severe looks on their faces.

"How dare you come in here and waste my time with nonsense like this, you insolent pup," Rupert growled, glaring evilly at Harry. "You come here, blatantly disregarding our rules and disrespecting our customs." Lupin scrambled up onto his feet, only to fall down again as Rupert shoved Harry on top of him. "Leave. The only reason I don't kill you on the spot for your insults is because of that darned oath my foolish son made me swear. Mark my words; if I, or any of my clan, ever see you again, you _will_ die."

With that, Rupert turned and strode back into the room he had come from. Lucas stayed for a few moments to glare at Harry disappointedly before returning as well, slamming the door loudly as he went.

"Well, that could have gone better," Harry groaned, sitting up only to find himself tangled up with Lupin.

"H- Har – "Harry all but growled at him. "Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?"

Harry groaned loudly and let his head thunk back onto the cold marble floor. Seriously, what could he _possibly_ have done to this? Cursing and muttering under his breath, Harry violently pushed himself up off Lupin, nearly tripping and falling on his face as he did so. Harry began to stalk towards the doors to what he assumed was outside, trying to make a break for it when Lupin scrambled to his feet and grabbed Harry's shoulder, **(2) **refusing to let go. Harry tried fervently to shake the werewolf off but was unsuccessful.

"Harry, please," Lupin implored desperately, looking Harry in the eye. "However you feel towards me, Sirius, and the rest of the Order, there are some things you _need_ to know if you're going to face Voldemort without accepting our help. Please just hear me out, Harry. I want to help you if you'll just – "

"First of all, it's Mr. Potter to you, and I already know all about the prophecy, Horcruxes, and how to destroy them, so don't even go there."

'I even know where they are,' Harry added silently, but he wasn't about to share that information. Maybe dementors really did know everything. Lupin looked suitably bowled over. In quick succession, several emotions flashed across his face; complete and utter surprise at Harry's knowledge, relief that his ex-almost godson wasn't going after Voldemort blind, and finally, confusion as to how Harry was privy **(3)** to such well-guarded knowledge.

"But, Ha – Mr. Potter, how do you know that? I can count on one hand how many people know those things! And you were in Azkaban! Please, Ha – Mr. Potter, tell me the truth. If there's a leak in the Order …"

Lupin begged Harry with his eyes. Harry could tell Lupin truly wanted to make sure Harry was safe, but he still felt a flare of anger at being rooted for knowledge, as well as the usual dull distrust and dislike. And from the looks of it, Lupin wasn't going to give up anytime soon. Harry needed something to distract Lupin so that he could escape.

'I guess it's time to take a leaf out of a certain beloved pirate captain's book. Please, Disney, don't fail me now.'

Harry blinked owlishly at Lupin before responding, completely serious. "The dementors told me."

"Wh-what?"

"The dementors told me."

"Wait, what? Are you being serious? Wait, where'd you – where are you going? Harry, come back!"

While Lupin looked stunned and considered the possibility that Harry was being truthful, Harry managed to break out of the werewolf's grip and scamper around him to make a break to the doors leading outside. Harry quickly searched with his magic and found that the courtyard out there was the only place in the building without any anti-apparation charms on it.

'Chalk one up for Captain Jack Sparrow, **(4)**' he thought with a laugh. Ignoring Lupin's cries, he burst through the door yelling, "Freedom!" and startling all the werewolves in the yard. Unfortunately, one of these werewolves happened to be Fenrir Greyback. He launched himself forward, towards Harry, but stayed within arm's distance of him for some odd reason. The two growling werewolf guards standing next to Fenrir may have had something to do with it.

"You little brat!" He growled, an ugly sneer coming over his face. "A little birdy told me your little meeting with our high, esteemed leader didn't go so well. Too … bad."

Apparently Rupert's voice could really carry. "Yes, sad. A _real_ shame. I'd hate to have to put any of you werewolves down when you try and save Moldy Shorts. Could have saved some of you a trip to the vet, but oh, well," Harry looked at Fenrir. "Some of you mutts might just have to get neutered while you're there, but don't worry. I'll make sure they put you to sleep when it happens. Though I do think a few of you have already been fixed."

Fenrir lunged forward, enraged, but whether it was at Harry calling Voldemort "Moldy Shorts," Harry implying that he would beat said Moldy Shorts, Harry "threatening" the werewolves, or Harry implying that Fenrir had long since lost his … manhood, Harry did not know. Instantly, the guards pulled him back and slammed him against the ground. **(5)** He growled and thrashed, fighting once more to try to get to Harry.

Struck by sudden inspiration, Harry turned around and pulled down his pants, mooning the werewolf. An enraged howl broke out from Fenrir, as did several chuckles, wolf-whistles, and disapproving glares from the surrounding werewolves. Lupin, who had arrived just in time to see Harry moon Fenrir, stared before chuckling a bit himself. Fenrir began to struggle all the more violently, and the guards began to look like they were having trouble trying to keep him from murdering Harry – though from the look one of them sent Harry, they really wished they could let Fenrir murder him.

Fenrir broke free, and Harry messily pulled up his pants and ran. Fenrir was chasing him around the courtyard, and while Harry knew he could just apparate away, he was having far too much fun messing with Fenrir to do that right now. Harry's pants kept almost falling down, and, laughing, he had to keep pulling them up. Suddenly, Connor turned the corner and appeared. He stood for a second, staring, before he seemed to recognize Harry's robe.

"Why's Fenrir chasing Tim?"

Connor earned himself strange looks from the werewolf's next to him, and Harry started laughing even harder. Gasping for breath, he pulled up his pants once more and apparated away.

Harry nearly fell down on the stone pavement as he arrived at a point outside the clan's meeting building. He also nearly dropped his pants again and had to take a few moments to try and get them cinched back up.

"Having a little trouble there?"

Harry jumped up, blushed a little, and glared half-heartedly at Lucas. "Don't you have anything better to do than sneak up behind me and make sarcastic comments?"

Lucas made a huge show out of seeming to think on that. "Hmm… nope."

Harry shook his head in exasperation before smiling. "So… nice performance back there, even if you just kind of stood there."

"Yes," Lucas replied loftily, "Father always did say the theater was denied a great actor when I decided to follow in his footsteps in leading our great clan after his eventual demise."

"Well, that's kind of … morbid."

Lucas nodded lazily. "Mmhmm, oh, do, hey, what's the plan now? I know you probably have places to be, people to see, dark lords to slay; but how are you going to contact us? Do you need me to come with you?"

Harry blinked at the abrupt change in conversation but answered willingly. "No, I don't need you to come with me." Lucas looked mildly put out by this, so he continued. "I need you here and acting as if everything is as normal as ever.

Lucas nodded in understanding. "Ok, but how are you going to contact us; and when are you going to contact us?"

Harry stopped for a second. How was he going to contact them? He couldn't just waltz into the clan building every time he wanted to talk with the werewolf leaders or something – especially not after that performance Rupert and Lucas had given earlier. Suddenly, he had an idea. Those galleons Granger had made sixth year in one of her (rare) strokes of genius. Maybe he could… Harry glanced around at the street around him. Suddenly, spying a tin can, he picked it up and wandlessly transfigured it into a dog tag with a chain. Lucas' eyes practically burst out of his skull.

"Wait, you don't, you don't have a wand. How on Earth did you do that?" Ignoring him, Harry went on to cast the same spell that Granger had used before. Satisfied, he held the newly finished dog tag up and walked over to push it into Lucas' hand. "Okay … why did you just give me a piece of metal?"

"It's a dog tag, "Harry explained patiently. "Pun intended. I spelled it so that when I need it to, it will heat up, and where and when I need to meet you and who and what I need you to meet me with will inscribe itself on the tag. It goes around your neck, hence the chain.

Lucas whistled, impressed, and pulled the dog tag over his head. "How on Earth did you figure that spell out?"

"Something a … ex-acquaintance of mine gave me gave me the idea." Harry said tersely. Lucas, noting he had stepped into sore territory, back off.

"Ok, so, where are you going now?"

"I don't really know," Harry answered. "I have some things I need to go looking for, but I suppose … I should get something to destroy them with first … but darn! That means I need to go back _there_. Darn it! I don't want to go back to Hogwarts!"

Now, at this point, you may be wondering why Harry would go all the way back to Hogwarts to get a basilisk fang when he could find other ways of destroying the horcruxes. Juan himself had questioned Harry when he said that's what he was going to do. Simple, he had to go to Hogwarts anyways to get the diadem, so why not grab a fang while he was at it. Besides, Harry _thoroughly_ hated fiendfyre.

Juan seemed to agree with Harry's point of view when Harry accidentally set his robes on fire while practicing the spell – as it turns out, dementors are rather fond of their cloaks. Needless to say, the dementors had decided that fiendfyre was not a spell Harry needed to be taught; and he could just use the fang. Harry agreed completely. (though he was kind of wishing he hadn't, now, what with having to return to Hogwarts so soon.) Besides, a fang is much more awesome than some puny little fire. Come on, a two foot-long, pointy **FANG **compared to a _stick_…. no contest.

"Wait, what? Hogwarts? What are you talking about?" Lucas asked confusedly, not following Harry's line of thinking at all. Harry waved him.

"Never you mind." Harry looked up towards the sky, where the sun was beginning to set. "How long did you have us traipsing around in that stupid tunnel? I need to go; it's getting late."

Lucas nodded again, a bit sadly. "Okay, I'll see you when you call for me. Don't die."

"Words to remember," Harry chuckled. "I'll see you later, Lucas,"

Lucas reached forward quickly and grabbed Harry into a tight hug. "If you die, I will bring you back and kill you for not keeping your end of the deal." The hug was over before Harry could react, and Lucas strode away.

Harry just stood there for a few seconds, stumped and unable to move, before calling out, "Not gay! And did you just touch my butt?"

Lucas just laughed and left, leaving a mildly outraged Harry in his wake.

**Author's Note: (1) No, not me the author personally. I remain impartial.**

**(2) Hey, it's not his arm this time. I feel like I always have people grabbing his arm.**

**(3) I love that word.**

**(4) Well, you see, this comes from scene in **_**Pirates of the Caribbean**_** where Jack confuses those guards with his words. He makes them think he's lying by using the truth to befuddle them, and while they're bickering, he sneaks onto the ship. Get it?**

**(5) Not a wall. Remember; they don't exist.**

**You should review. It's good for the soul. (And for my moral) And have a great Labor Day weekend. Thanks for reading! =D**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. However, I do own all my OC's, and that's almost as good. (Not really)**

Chapter 13 – Talk with Kreacher and attack!

Feeling exhausted, Harry silently apparated back to the Order headquarters. He cast an illusion charm on himself and checked to see who was home. No one. Hmm… that's odd. He would have at least expected Mrs. Weasley to be there, cleaning or some such thing. It was pretty late out. Shrugging and deciding he didn't care what they did, Harry walked up to his room. Upon entering, Harry found Kreacher there, cleaning up.

"Oh, welcome back, Master Harry!" The elf squealed excitedly. He seemed to be getting saner by the hour, or at least sane by house elf standards. Harry was beginning to wonder if Dobby was really that different from other house elves, or if he, Harry, had just gotten the dubious pleasure of meeting two of the very few weirdo house elves in this generation.

"'Lo, Kreacher," Harry stifled a yawn.

Kreacher immediately looked worried. "Master Harry sounds tired."

"Yeah, well, it's been a long day, Kreacher." Harry allowed the house elf to take his cloak and pull him over to the comfy-looking sofa. Harry yawned, fully this time.

"Kreacher will get Master Harry something to eat." Kreacher brought Harry over a huge plate of food before beginning to clean up the kitchen, which was now so spotless even Aunt Petunia would be jealous.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry began to chew happily, enjoying the mini-feast when a thought struck him. "Hey, Kreacher."

"Master Harry needs something?" The elf immediately put down the sparkling pot he was scrubbing in order to rush over excitedly, but Harry waved him off.

"No, no, go ahead and keep cleaning, Kreacher. I just have a question."

"Ask anything, Master Harry," the elf said happily, delighted to be of any service. Harry was a tad stunned at the change in Kreacher, but, he supposed, maybe house elves needed work and orders to stay sane. Otherwise, they probably would have already taken over the world. It would make sense-why else would they love it so much?

"What side do house elves take in the war?" Kreacher looked confused, so Harry went on. "Do they just have to side with their master, or can they have a differing opinion?"

"Well," Kreacher said slowly, "house elves need to stay on our master's side; but we can prefer another side if we choose. No one cares about our opinions, though; and we usually will feel the same as our masters, so no one tries to openly support a different side. Occasionally, some of us may even go behind our masters' backs to help that side!" Kreacher spoke as if such a thing was scandalous and unheard of. Yup, Dobby was definitely a weirdo. "Then they will need to punish themselves-as well they should-but they can still help another side if they really feel that strongly about it."

Hmm…..Harry thought about that for a moment before throwing out his next question. "Kreacher, let's say I have a friend who's a house elf-just pretend, Kreacher, no need to look so horrified-and who works at Hogwarts. If I went to him to ask for help, would he be able to help me? And would he have to tell Dumbledore?"

Kreacher looked at Harry curiously. "When you say he is working for Hogwarts, do you mean that he is owned by Hogwarts?"

"No, he's paid to work there."

Kreacher looked very much disgusted by even the idea of getting paid for his work, but he answered dutifully. "He should be able to, if he is not owned by Dumbledore," the elf spat the name with a venom and disgust that Harry thoroughly admired. "But, as he was once a _true_ house elf, yes? He would only report it if specifically order to, or if he is asked by Dumbledore if he is helping you or seeing you. Even if he is not a _true_ house elf, he would most likely be loyal to Hogwarts and its headmaster."

Harry grinned. Even Dumbledore wouldn't think he was getting help from Dobby. After all, what wizard (besides Granger) thought of house elves? "Thank you very much, Kreacher, you've been a great help." The old elf beamed at the praise, and Harry was struck by the thought that he had never heard Kreacher speak so much before. Harry continued to eat in silence before he realized that Kreacher might know the reason behind the lack of traitors in the house. "Hey, Kreacher, do you know where the Order is?"

"Does sir mean the blood traitors, and mudbloods, and-"

"Yes, yes, them."

The elf frowned in distaste. "One of the older less ugly-though not by much- red-haired blood traitors came to the house bearing some sort of news. The others were in the middle of one of their pointless meetings."

"What was the news?"

"Kreacher does not know; he did not care to know. Does Master Harry wish for Kreacher to know?"

Harry nodded. "That would be very helpful, Kreacher. Please, next time I'm away, keep track of what they're doing and report to me. Now, what happened after they heard the news?"

Kreacher scowled even deeper, if possible. "They started making noise, and there was a big uproar. They all left; upsetting my mistress as they did so. Stupid little-"

"Okay," Harry said, finishing his food and getting up. "I'm going to go downstairs to try to find out what the news was." Harry turned to leave but stopped and turned around to say, "Wait, Kreacher, has Lupin returned yet?"

"Werewolf-traitor?" Harry nodded his head, and Kreacher shook his head. "No, sir, not yet."

"Ok, thanks, I'll see you later." As Harry recast his invisibility charm, he pondered how much more convenient it was to have Kreacher as a house elf. Any other one would have tried to insist that Harry rest while they did the work; but years with the Blacks had Kreacher not questioning him in the least. Dobby would have been a nightmare.

Harry walked quickly down the stairs; not caring about making noise because no one was there-he was being cautious, not paranoid. He hurried into the kitchen and began to silently inspect it. The Order sure had left in a hurry. Chairs were knocked over in the hustle to get out. Several mugs of tea on the table had been knocked over, spilling their contents everywhere. There was even a broken cup on the ground where someone had (presumably) dropped it in shock. Harry reached down to pick it up and accidentally cut his finger on the sharp, broken glass.

"Ouch!"

He quickly stuck his finger in his mouth and put the cup back on the floor, wiping off the bead of blood that had appeared there while doing so. Harry turned his attention to Dumbledore's head chair, where there was a note spello taped to it.

_Remus,_

_There was an attack on the village. Gone to help,_

_The Order_

Harry scoffed at how they had just left the note right there out in the open. They trusted both the _fidealous_ charm and each other far too much. Harry was sure there was at least one real traitor planted by Voldemort in the Order of idiots. Also, "the village?" Wizards suck at naming things; it's official. Come on, Hogwarts? Harry shook his head in disgust at the unprofessional-ism. He returned the note to Dumbledore's chair and was turning to go when he heard the door open; and Lupin's voice ring out.

"I have some news on Harry!"

He didn't sound too happy about the news. Harry quickly turned on his heel and silently apparated to the village before Lupin could see him. Here was a perfect opportunity to scope out Tommy Boy face to face.

Remus Lupin Walked into the door of headquarters calling, "I have some news on Harry!" He sounded miserable, and he knew it. How could he not feel miserable? Harry had evaded him once more, and he hadn't even been able to help Harry at all. Suddenly, as he walked through the hallway, he realized how eerily silent it was. Where was everyone? Panic gripped him, but he forced himself to walk calmly to the kitchen.

Immediately, a familiar scent invaded his nose; but he ignored it instead for the note taped to a chair, Dumbledore's if he was correct. The room was a mess; Molly Weasley was going to be furious when she got back. Lupin quickly read over the note, his anxiety growing with every word. This was the second attack this week! It seemed like Voldemort was really trying to discourage people since the recent freedom of Harry. Or, he could just be feeling more evil as of late.

Wait a minute. Lupin quickly turned his nose to the oh-so familiar scent that he hadn't been able to place. He followed it to where the scent was strongest-a broken tea cup on the floor. Picking it up, he saw a small smudge of blood on the ragged edge of the cup. He leaned close and inhaled deeply, trying to place where he had smelled it before. Suddenly, he dropped the cup in shock and recognition; and it broke even further.

Harry.

It was Harry's scent. Harry had been here. Recently, too-only a few moments before, according to the freshness of the scent.

'Why?' Lupin asked, head spinning. He spent a few more moments lost in thought before he suddenly realized that all the time he spent day dreaming about Harry was time the Order spent fighting off Voldemort. Quickly, Remus rushed back out the door and apparated to the battle.

Harry began coughing immediately upon his arrival at the village. The reason was that several nearby buildings were burning. Glancing around, Harry saw that it was a small village, only with six buildings, four of which were on fire; and he could tell why the ministry hadn't bothered to give it a proper name. But why was Voldemort here? Was there something special here he wanted, or…was it Harry's fault he was here, burning buildings and endangering people's lives? Was he only attacking this village to get Harry to come out? Harry knew deep down that it was the latter, and he felt his heart freeze at the thought. But he pushed away the feeling, knowing that Voldemort would have attacked another village anyways-almost certainly a larger, more populated one.

With smoke stinging his eyes, Harry raised his arm and cast a wand less _aguamenti _spell, dousing out the fire on the nearest house. Looking around, he spied the death eaters and the Order doing battle in a small courtyard near the middle of the village. In the middle, near a fountain, Voldemort and Dumbledore were having one of those talking/duel things where you seem to spend more time talking about each other and your feelings than trying to kill each other.

Harry had a sudden and brief flashback to the Department of Mysteries, when he had been possessed by Voldemort, and after he had watched Black get hit by a curse from Bellatrix Lestrange, falling a mere few inches if from the Veil of Death. He had learned a little of the prophecy that day, but not all as Dumbledore hadn't deigned to tell him all of it. And it had only been a half a year after that that Harry had been chucked into Azkaban.

Now thoroughly in a bad mood, at both the memories and seeing the Order again with them able to see him, Harry stalked down the path by the houses, putting out fires along the way, towards Voldemort with a scowl worthy of Victor Krum on his face. Voldemort's face twisted into an ugly, noseless, and expectant smile at the sight of Harry. Dumbledore looked shocked but pleased that Harry had come. Voldemort obviously thought that Harry was still completely connected to his mind and had tried to send Harry an image about the attack, and he seemed to think it had worked. How, since Harry had been blocking all the images sent to him and sending him back dirty ones, did he think that, Harry did not know.

"Ahh, the man of the hour, _Harry Potter_. I hope your stay in Azkaban was pleasant."

Harry, having decided to not do the talk/duel, just ignored this and went straight for a conversation stopper. "Do bugs ever fly up your nose-holes and into your brain? Is that why you're so insane?"

Absolute silence followed this proclamation; everyone was too surprised to fight each other. Finally, Black broke the silence with laughter, causing all the other Order members to chuckle as well; and the death eaters started attacking again in rage. Dumbledore himself chuckled, and Voldemort narrowed his eyes in anger but made no move towards Harry.

'Oh, someone's been taking anger management classes. Good for him,' Harry thought sardonically.

Voldemort began to stare intensely at Harry, eyes flashing. This went on for several minutes, with Dumbledore looking confused, Voldemort getting more enraged by the second, and Harry beginning to fear for his purity. Finally, it occurred to Harry what Voldemort was trying to do; and he burst out laughing. Harry was practically rolling on the floor, he was laughing so hard, which is not a good thing if you're in the middle of a battle; but Voldemort seemed too stunned to do anything.

"It's not going to work, so you can stop trying to invade my mind now," Harry gasped out between laughs. Voldemort instantly began throwing every hex and curse he knew at Harry, who was deftly dodging them. Moldy Shorts was so much slower than the dementors. "What's the matter there, Voldy? Gettin' a little old, are we?"

Voldemort just continued to throw hex after hex at Harry. This moment was when Lupin chose to arrive. He stared, struck by the scene of Harry battling Voldemort, as did Dumbledore, who _still_ wasn't doing anything. Harry practically growled at the two of them.

"What are you two idiots gawking at? Get a move on, and go help the villagers evacuate!" Harry could hear over the din of the battle the wails of crying children and the moans of a man trapped under a fallen beam in one of the previously burning houses. It practically tore Harry in two that he couldn't help them because of Voldemort, and these two royal buffoons were just standing there!

Immediately, Lupin and Dumbledore burst into action, conjuring stretchers and rushing over to help the trapped man and his kids. But where was the mother? Harry glanced around while dodging another of Voldemort's annoying spells. Suddenly, Harry gasped in sadness. He saw her lying on the road, throat cut open by a stray cutting hex from one of the death eaters. Blinded by his grief over an innocent woman's death, Harry felt his cheek sting as one of Voldy's hex's grazed it. He turned around to glare at Voldemort with a vengeance. He may not be able to kill him quite yet, but the death eaters were fair game.

Harry calmly began walking between the battlers, ignoring Voldemort who looked like he was going to explode with anger as curses kept missing, and because Harry was paying him no attention. Hey, maybe if Harry annoyed him enough, Voldy's head would explode, saving Harry the trouble of killing him! The death eaters and the Order ignored Harry as he walked by, assuming he was too busy with Voldemort to help/hurt their fights. Harry began cursing the death eaters as he walked by. The Order members, who dueled the death eaters, looked up at Harry in surprise but moved on to help other Order members in their fights.

It wasn't long before all the death eaters were unable to fight. Voldemort had only brought a couple inner circle ones and, like, twelve expendable ones, as he seemed to have thought Harry wouldn't put up much of a fight. Harry glanced over at Voldemort, who was growing tired, after having tripped the last death eater. Voldemort growled but realized that it was time to make a strategic retreat.

"My Lord!" called one of the fallen death eater newbies. "Please, help us, my Dark Lord!" Voldemort just smiled cruelly at the death eater before apparating away. "What? B-but, my Lo-"

"Oh, stuff it!" growled one of the inner circle death eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange. "The Dark Lord has no use for those who have failed him. We will deserve all that happens to us for failing the great and mighty Dark Lord!"

"Yes, yes, you will," growled Moody, who moved to bind Bellatrix even tighter. The Order all turned to look at Harry, who was the only reason they didn't have any casualties.

"Why…" Black asked, staring at Harry desperately. Harry's anger flared, and he gave up on not talking to them.

"That's the same type of attitude that led to all of you flinging me into Azkaban. You all seem to think that I'm capable of all those horrible things and acts of murder. I may hate you all, but I'm not a monster." Harry stated coldly.

Everyone flinched. They should have known-Harry had always been risking his life for friends and enemies alike. Black reached forward, his face twisted in grief. "Harry, I'm so, so –"

Harry walked past Black, ignoring him once more, and walked towards the little boy who had been crying during the battle and was now looking at his dead mother, not sure what was going on. Black made to go after him but stopped himself and just stood there, looking sadly, regretfully, and guiltily at Harry. Harry walked over to the little boy and squatted down in front of him. The child turned baleful eyes, red around the rims from crying, towards Harry.

"What's wrong with mummy? She won't get up."

Harry looked at the boy sadly. "My name's Harry; what's yours?"

"Jake," the boy sniffed.

"And how old are you, Jack?"

"Five."

Harry sighed. How did you explain death to a child? "Your mommy's gone, Jake."

"Gone?"

"Yes, those bad men took her away."

"Can we get her back?" Jake asked, panicked and hopeful.

"No, she's gone; but she's in a nicer place now, a place where the bad men can't hurt her. But you'll be able to see her again someday." Harry said.

"Why can't I see her now?"

Harry sighed. "You just can't right now, no matter how much you want to. Believe me; I know."

Jake's eyes filled up with tears, and he glared accusingly at Harry to try to cover them up. 'How do you know that?" Jake asked as harshly as he could, but Harry knew better. He was just trying desperately to prove that it wasn't true, that his world wasn't shifting and falling apart around him.

"My mum's gone too."

Jake instantly looked completely abashed. "I'm sorry," he murmured, eyes downcast. "Did the bad men take her away too?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, they did. I was actually quite a bit younger than you when they did."

"Do you miss her?" Jake asked innocently.

Harry smiled softly. "Yes, I do. And I'm going to go ahead and tell you this; people will tell you it's going to get better, but it won't. You'll always miss and love here, but it's the trick of remembering her that makes you feel better. It may get easier with time, but there will always be days when you'll remember her; and you'll miss her, and it's going to hurt. Just keep in mind that she wouldn't want you to spend your life hung up on her, would she?"

"No," Jake answered quietly.

"She would want you to live your life and remember her. I know this because every mother wants the best for their child." 'Maybe not their nephew, though,' Harry added silently before going on. "Loot at me; I turned out fine, and I've lived without her for around twenty years. You need to be strong for your dad, but you don't need to be strong all the time. Sometimes, you're just going to need to let it out; and that's okay. You just need to find someone who can help you let it out." 'That sure would have done me a lot of good,' Harry thought silently.

At this, Jake finally broke down and launched himself into Harry's arms, sobbing quietly. After a while, Jake pulled away and looked at Harry, wiping his eyes on Harry's sleeve. "Did your daddy tell you that?"

Harry's smile saddened. "No, the bad men took him too."

Jake instantly looked upset again. He ran over to his distraught but calm-looking father, who was just getting up from a stretcher after being healed, and dragged him all the way over to Harry. "Daddy, Daddy, he says that he hasn't got a mum anymore either. _And_ he doesn't have a daddy. Can you be his daddy?"

The poor boy's father looked completely flustered and rather unsure of what to do. His confusion and embarrassment grew when he caught sight of Harry's scar, and he blushed. Harry just laughed. In the background, the Order looked rather stunned, as if they still didn't seem to think he was capable of laughing anymore. Jake looked confused as to why Harry was laughing.

"Jake, I'm a little old for your dad to be my dad; but you know what _you_ can do?" Harry knelt down again to look Jake in the eye. "You can be my friend. Can you do that?"

Jake looked thoughtful for a few seconds before enthusiastically exclaiming, "Yep!" He gave Harry another hug before going back over to his father. Harry stood up and smiled again, as the father spoke softly to Jake. "Jake, we need to go over to St. Mungo's, now. They want to check us over."

"Where are the rest of the villagers?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Dead" the man said flatly, despair in his eyes, pulling his son away towards a newly made portkey.

"Bye, Harry, see you later." Jake called before he disappeared.

"Bye, Jake," Harry grinned. Harry turned to go (again) and was stopped (_again_). "Why do people keep stopping me from leaving?" Harry exploded.

Lupin, the one who had grabbed Harry's arm, stopped in surprise. "H-" *glare* "Mr. Potter, how did you know about this attack? Were you in our headquarters?"

Harry mentally slapped himself on the forehead-werewolf sense of smell! And he'd even been stupid enough to bleed on a freaking cup! Outwardly, Harry looked completely calm and asked confusedly, "Why would being in your headquarters warn me about the attack? And for that matter, why on earth would I want to go there?"

Lupin appeared to be calm, even though Harry was sure he was becoming frustrated. "Your scent was all over the kitchen." The Order gasped in surprise.

"Well, then you got my scent confused with someone else's." Before Harry could stop him, Lupin leaned in close and smelled Harry deeply. "Hey! Personal bubble, Lupin!" Harry violently pushed Lupin away and began to try to get room to disapparate, but, by this time, the Order had surrounded him; and if he moved at all, he ended up touching someone. Great, now he couldn't apparate without taking someone with him.

"No, I didn't get you mixed up with someone else. You were at Headquarters." Lupin smiled in triumph.

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly. "Please stop running, Harry. At least face us so that we can try to figure this out."

"I'm not running!" Harry yelled.

"Yes, you are; and you-"

"Ok," Harry interrupted. "So what if I am? I have good reason not to want to talk to you. You," he pointed at Dumbledore, "were my headmaster, and I believed in you; but you left me with abusive relatives for most of my life who treated me like dirt and almost convinced me that I was dirt. You," he pointed at male and female ex-best friends, "you were my best friends; but you were always fighting and only really supported me occasionally. You," he pointed to Lupin, "were my teacher, someone I looked up to and trusted. You," he pointed to the rest of the Weasleys, "I always saw as the family I'd never had. And you," he pointed at Black, who looked afraid to hear what Harry had to say, "were my godfather. My actual family, and one of my last ties to my parents. I trusted you most of all." He turned to speak to the whole Order. "I loved and cared about all of you in varying degrees, and you all completely betrayed my love and trust. How am I supposed to face you when you destroyed me so thoroughly?"

"H-Harry, please, I know what we did; and I can never be sorry enough for that, but I'm your godfather; and I-"

"Really?" Harry cut in coldly. "I was under the presumption that I no longer was your godson. 'You're no godson of mine,' remember?" Harry pushed past them, through the circle, and apparated away, not caring to look back as he did so.

**Author's Note: Hi, how'd you like it? In case you were wondering about the last part, that's a quote from the first chapter? Review if you remembered it without having to look back, please, I'd like to know how many people did. Thank you so much for reading, thank you all my reviewers. You thought Harry was going back to Hogwarts, didn't you? Nope, not yet. I was actually planning for him to when this idea struck. Maybe next chapter. Or maybe not... Review! I don't just delete those or something; I read them all, so if you have anything to say, I will hear it.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Ugh, I'm getting tired of making these, but here goes. NO, I do not own Harry Potter. If you think I do own Harry Potter, you are mistaken…or stupid, one of the two.**

Chapter 14 Still not a Hogwarts

Harry landed on the doorstep and quickly slipped past the wards and bounded up to Bernard's room before the Order could have a chance to find him there. Luckily, Bernard's room was so dangerous and completely inaccessible that they wouldn't' even think he could be in there. Harry burst into the room in a frenzy. He quickly reviewed the repertoire of spells in his mind for one that would work.

Remembering it, he hurriedly cast it wandlessly, cursing himself for not remembering about the darned werewolf's sense of smell. A sort of orange glow filled the entire house before disappearing with a flash. Harry smiled. The Order would know he was consistently visiting now, as why else would he cast that spell if he wasn't planning on coming back, but at least they wouldn't know he was living here. Hopefully, they would think he was just coming back to visit in order to get information every now and again.

So, he would need to watch out because they might try and set a trap for him or catch him sneaking around or something. Or maybe not. Dumbledore being the (sorta) crafty thinker he was would probably think leaving Harry alone would raise his trust in the Order and make him more likely to open up.

Not likely.

Harry quickly jumped into the shower before climbing (hair still wet) into bed and falling into exhausted slumber.

The Order rushed into headquarters and quickly brought Lupin into the kitchen. "Remus, this is where you smelled him?" Dumbledore asked quietly, the rest of the Order eerily silent in anticipation.

Lupin sniffed around confusedly. "Yes, but…"

"Why would he come here?" Black interrupted. "He hates us, so why would he visit?" He looked like he had mixed feelings about Harry coming to Grimlaud Place – happy that Harry had an interest in them but confused as to why and mad he hadn't been able to see him. Dumbledore looked at Black knowingly.

"We were an easy source of information. He already had permission to come here, and a wizard as strong as Harry seems to be would have no trouble at all hiding his presence from all of us – even Alistair." Dumbledore turned to Lupin. "Can you smell if he is here now?"

Snape scoffed. "Even that idiot of a boy wouldn't be dumb enough to come here right after we've found him out." Black glared murderously at Snape, and Dumbledore quickly stepped in between them, forcing the two to try and send glares and snide looks at each other around him.

"Uh, um…" Lupin shook his head and appeared to be having a minor meltdown. "I-I can't' smell anything other than a normal wizard could. Y-you're scents-they're all, all gone. As soon as I walked in the door, my senses just…stopped working." Lupin stepped forward dizzily and Black quickly pulled him into a chair. "I-I feel like I've gone blind."

Dumbledore sighed and cleaned his glasses tiredly. "Harry used the _scenturna_ spell **(1)**."

"The what?" Black asked dumbly.

"The _scenturna_ spell," Lupin answered weakly, still disoriented. "It's an ancient spell, most commonly used hundreds of years ago by sentient magical creatures like werewolves or vampires. The spell erases all scents, rendering any magical beings with advanced senses practically useless.

"It was often used in wars or political offices to keep things on common ground or disorient you enemies. But how on earth would Harry know this spell's incantation? Only the oldest of creatures do, (2) and I've only ever heard of it."

"I don't know," Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "You said he already knew about the prophecy and the horcruxes?"

Lupin nodded his head; they'd picked his brain for information at the Village. "He even seemed to have an idea as to where they might be."

"Wait, a minute," Granger interrupted, "Why would Harry cast this spell?"

At this question, Dumbledore began to smile. "Simple, Miss Granger. He's planning on coming back."

Moody seemed to know what Dumbledore meant. "You're right. Why else would he cast that spell? He's planning to visit again, and why not? Like you said, we're an easy source of information, and we have no way of stopping him. There must be a way to use this to knock some sense into him, at least."

Surprisingly, at this, Mundungus spoke up. This surprised many people as it seemed to be his goal during these meetings to be forced to do or say as little as possible. "Seems ta me that Harry's still got something of a hero complex. You saw him wit that boy, J-Ja-Jack, or whatever. Just make up a fake attack, and he'll come runnin."

Moody eyed Mundungus suspiciously. "Are you suggesting that we trap him?"

Mundungus shook his head fervently under Moody's harsh stare. "No, no! But…ya could at least get him to come here so ya can talk ta him if you do that."

Dumbledore looked as if he frowned on such a back way of doing things but could see no other choice. "Arthur, write up another note for a fake attack and tape it to the chair. Make the location…The Village Number Two, outside the Burrow."

Everyone was moving to do as he said, and Lupin was about to protest when, to everyone's utmost surprise, it was Black who objected. "NO! We can't…we shouldn't. We've already done enough to Harry; can't we let him be? We've done so many things, said so many things, hurtful, hate-filled things… We can't try and force Harry to talk to us and forgive us. We can't try and trick him.

"If Harry needs our help…he'll come to us. No matter how much he hates us, he won't risk innocent lives on hate or pride. We made the mistake of thinking he could do something like that already twice before; we can't make it a third time. Until he comes to us, if we try to force him…it'll only make him hate us more."

Lupin looked at Black with respect and gave him an assuring squeeze on the shoulder. Dumbledore gazed sadly at the two. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but we need to talk to Harry and find out exactly how much he knows and how he knows this. We can't afford any leak in the Order, and we need to get Harry to accept our help."

Black stood up angrily, knocking down the chair he had taken, as did Lupin. "I can't…I won't…I won't be any part of this. Do as you wish, Dumbledore, but I will be back _after_ you fail to trap my godson. He doesn't deserve this. Besides, think about all he's done so far. Do you really think he'll fall for such a pitiful trap? Maybe a little failure will help you see the truth."

Many people gasped at Black so openly dissng _the_ Albus Dumbledore, but Dumbledore just nodded his head sadly as he watched Black and Lupin storm out of the house. You had to do what you had to do. Black had already failed in his duty as a godfather, and, so, this was what he had to do. Unfortunately, this was what Dumbledore had to do. For the greater good…

"Gaaaaahhhh!" Harry bolted upright as he felt Kreacher's thin, bony hands wrap around his shoulders, shaking him awake. Kreacher jumped back as soon as Harry awakened, looking at him respectfully. Harry yawned for a minute and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before turning to look at the ever awaiting Kreacher. Upon glance, Harry could immediately tell that the elf had something important to say to him.

However, Harry couldn't tell if this news was good or bad, as Kreacher seemed to have a mix of joy, disgust, and dislike on his face. Harry swung his feet off the bed and moved to go sit at the table, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Kreacher hadn't even prepared breakfast for him; this was big. The elf in question was still staring at Harry respectfully, waiting for him to give the say so to tell his news.

"Good morning, Kreacher," Harry yawned. "Do you have something to tell me?"

The elf immediately began talking, such a large amount of words and enthusiasm spilling out of his mouth that it threatened to deluge Harry. "Whoa, whoa! More slowly!" Harry cautioned, unable to catch a single word.

The elf obliged, just as excited as ever. "Master Harry! You told Kreacher to give word on what happens downstairs, and, oh, so much has happened while Master Harry was asleep!"

"How long was I asleep?"

"Only ten hours, sir, but so much happens!"

"Okay, okay, Kreacher, what happened?"

"The Order met and were discussing the wonderful spell sir put up – good job, sir."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry replied, bemused.

"They figured that sir only made the spell because he was planning to come back…stupid fools. They decided to plan a trap for Master Harry! A fake attack with a location where they can find you and capture you! They left a note like before. The cowards."

Harry found himself agreeing silently with Kreacher, the cowards. "Did they say why they wanted to capture me, Kreacher?"

The elf sniffed in disdain. "They said to 'talk' to you."

Harry snorted. Yeah, right. "Did anyone, er, object to this plan?" There was no harm in asking; Harry couldn't help it. Call him a glutton for punishment, but Lupin had been preaching yesterday about wanting to 'help' Harry, so Harry wanted to see if Lupin had been man enough to stand up for him. The elf nodded his head, the odd mixture of joy and disgust still on his face.

"The werewolf and the traitor of the Noble House of Black. The good for nothing scum, disrespecting my mistress at every turn. The-"

"Wait, wait," Harry interrupted. "You mean Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, correct?" The elf nodded. Harry looked at Kreacher in mild shock. He had expected Lupin to maybe say something, but Black too? "W-well, what did they do?"

Kreacher's eyes lit up in glee, erasing all traces of disgust on his face. "They refused to go along with the plan, didn't they? They told off Dumbledore in front of his entire little Order, didn't they? And they left! Refusing to come back until Dumbledore has failed in trying to capture you and decides not to try again! Finally, he is gone!"

The elf clapped his hands happily, but then his ears drooped suddenly. "But wait, this house no longer even has a traitor son of the Noble House of Black in it. Filled with vermin and scum with no business or blood ties to this house."

"But I'm here, Kreacher."

The elf's ears perked up again. "True, true. The master Regulus' one true servant is here. The House is not lost to the vermin yet!" Kreacher then scuttled off to do something, presumably clean, muttering about "filthy mudbloods" and "nasty blood traitors" and "Noble Master Harry, savior of the Noble House of Black."

Darn, and Harry'd thought they'd made progress in not talking to yourself.

Oh, well, Harry chuckled a bit at that last line but sobered immediately at the matter at hand. Black and Lupin had stood up for him, even dissed Dumbledore for him! Harry had no idea how that made him feel. Did they think that by standing up to Dumbledore one time, Harry would just immediately forgive them and trust them…? No, even they weren't that stupid.

Still, Harry couldn't help but feel a tad smug that Dumbledore's Order was finally starting to wise up to him. It seemed Lupin and Black had learned to stop following Dumbledore blindly; after all, that's partly what had led up to them sending Harry to Azkaban. Those people put _far_ too much faith in Dumbledore. Sure, he was smart and powerful and right quite a bit of the time, but he could be wrong. Harry was a living example of this.

Dumbledore was just a light version of Voldemort, manipulating people to try and save lives and do good. But that was still manipulating people, and Harry was done being manipulated, for the greater good or not. It was no wonder Dumbledore was trying to push the killing of Voldemort on to Harry; he knew he couldn't do it. Not after all the evil things he'd had to do and the lives he'd had to destroy. Dumbledore would always be at risk of being persuaded to turn dark by the prospect of power, and so, couldn't be trusted to do away with Voldemort.

You can't use evil to destroy evil. It takes someone pure of heart, innocent, not evil. Harry had been perfect for the job when he had first come to Hogwarts, especially with the prophecy. Harry hated to admit it, but he was still perfect for the job. He _had_ been offered power in exchange of becoming evil; he _had_ been tempted with the prospect of completely ruining those who'd betrayed him.

But he hadn't done it. Harry would never change sides, no matter what happened because that was just the kind of person he was. Harry put away the thoughts of Lupin and Black and morality and, instead, turned to the Order's plan of capturing him.

Harry felt anger rise up in him, threatening to override his senses. Dumbledore was trying to manipulate him. _Again_. As stated earlier, Harry was done being used. Therefore, since it seems he hadn't been able to get his feelings across clearly before, he needed to make sure they wouldn't forget _exactly_ how he felt _anytime_ soon.

They needed to be taught that Harry was in complete control of his life, and he wasn't letting anyone mess with his life ever again. Harry gave sly grin. Time to get to work.

Harry nearly laughed as he apparated silently and invisibly outside of the Village Number Two. He could see some of the Order waiting in broad daylight for him, acquiring strange stares from the resident muggles. Said Order members looked significantly uncomfortable. It seems they knew they were being used as bait. The only one looking at all comfortable was To-_Nymphadora_, who looked like she was having a grand old time, humming and playing with her bright purple hair.

Harry glanced around casually, taking in the wards surrounding the town that were meant to alert Dumbledore of any wizard entering and the invisible Order member hidden around town, Dumbledore himself one of them. Sure enough, all of the members were there except for Lupin and Black.

Harry noticed his two ex-best friends sitting over by the fountain in the middle of town, disillusioned, but rather poorly. Freckles seemed to be trying to "put the moves on" Granger, who was stubbornly trying to get him to focus on watching for Harry.

Harry deftly worked his way through the wards undetected and walked over towards where Dumbledore was standing. Grinning evilly, Harry raised his hand and silently cast _morsmordia_, just like he'd seen Voldemort do so many times through his bond. The response was instantaneous.

Weasley and Granger both tried to pull their wands out at the same time but got tangled up with each other because they were sitting so close together and fell into the ice cold water of the fountain. The rest of the Order was immediately on their feet, wands drawn. Dumbledore stood warily, glancing around. Bill Weasley had been chatting up some muggle girl when Harry had shot the sign in to the sky and had quickly pulled out his wand, frightening the girl into screaming.

Harry immediately took advantage of the situation and yelled in a rather believable girl's voice, "They've got guns!"

The muggles who had already been wary of the Order thanks to their strange clothes instantly took the wands as guns. The women all ran for cover, along with the children ("But I want to watch the guys with guns, Mommy."), while the men began attacking the Order. In mere seconds, the police showed up, trying to subdue the panicking Order. Put simply, it was chaos.

'Ah, the power of suggestion,' Harry thought fondly. 'Impressive response time, too. These police know their stuff.'

Three little words and the panic just grew and grew. Besides, Harry had to admit, it was highly satisfying watching Granger and Weasley get hauled out of the fountain by four policemen like drowned little kittens. And watching two policemen trying to arrest Dumbledore, who was calmly trying to reason with the men who were trying to handcuff him, was down right _hilarious_.

The note had said there was an attack, so Harry was just making the note true. Laughing, he cast an _immobulus_ charm on the entire town, freezing everyone in their spots. Harry was almost sad to do it – the policemen had been close to pushing Dumbledore face down on the ground in order to "subdue him" – but it was time to reveal himself.

Harry promptly got rid of the powerful invisibility charm on himself, causing the Order's eyes to widen in outrage and the muggles eyes to widen in shock. Except for Dumbledore's; he still looked like this was what he'd expected to happen the entire time. Maybe this _was_ what he'd expected to happen… Crazy old coot.

"Soooo," Harry drawled with a sly but evil looking grin. "I heard you guys were planning to capture me… How's that workin out for you?" The only answer he got were glares. Harry pasted a look cold as ice on his face. "Apparently, I didn't' make myself clear earlier. I have no intention of accepting your help right now, but if and when I do, I will come to you. As it is, I have no reason to come to you for anything; I have plenty of allies who haven't betrayed me I can go to.

"You cannot force me to accept your help. You cannot force me to stop hating you. You are _through_ messing around with my life. Maybe you could all do me a favor and go jump off a cliff. I don't want you in my life; you don't deserve to be in my life.

"You never thought of me as Harry; you only thought of me as the Boy-Who-Lived, some expendable tool you could just use and dispose of whenever you wished. Even after all I went through, year after year, you only seemed to care about whether or not I was okay to keep fighting, not if I myself was okay.

"I wasn't okay. I was never truly okay. How do you think it felt knowing that everyone I loved cared more about themselves and what I would do for them than for me? But it doesn't matter anymore; I'm done with that. I have a real family now, one that would never betray me, you Judas Iscariot wannabes."

Harry glanced around at the chaos he'd created and smiled coldly. The Order looked utterly devastated, and Dumbledore looked shocked at Harry's harsh words. "And now, it is time for me to go."

Immediately, the wizards' and witches' eyes widened in horror as Harry turned to leave without unfreezing them. Harry looked back over his shoulder and smirked. "Don't worry, you little traitors. I'm sure the ministry will get an anonymous heads up to your situation sometime soon. But then again, I've been in Azkaban for the past three and a half years, so my sense of 'soon,' 'much, much later,' and 'never' may be a little screwed up. Have _fun_ waiting."

Harry gave another chilling smile and a small wave before apparating away with a pop. Why let them know he could apparate silently? He couldn't give away all his secrets, now could he?

**Author's Note: (1) I made this spell up, in case you couldn't tell, which you really should have been able to.**

**(2) Dementors are the easiest excuse for anything, aren't they?**

**Short chapter, I know, and not really any but development, and I updated a little later than the once a week I was going for, but it's because I put a new oneshot, so please click on my profile and read it. It took me forever to write this one (over 10,000 words, a record for me). Anyway, the next chapter will be longer, will have much more plot development, and guess what? A little sneak preview. I've always wanted to give a sneak preview for some reason.**

_Harry gaped and looked up at the dementor on top of him in complete surprise. "Juan? What're you doing here?'_

"_I," Juan stated, climbing off Harry and pulling Harry up, "Am here to save your ungrateful, idiotic, hero-complexed but."_

**Really short preview, but I hope you liked it! Bye!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Hahahahaha! I do so own…no, no, I really don't. I thought I did for a second, but I don't. Sorry.**

Chapter 15 The Return of Juan

Harry glanced around passively, mildly interested in where he was. He was, in fact, right in the middle of the forbidden forest, right outside of Hogwarts. Exactly where he was in said forest, though…quite frankly, Harry hadn't a clue. Hey, it wasn't his fault; the forbidden forest _was_ pretty darn big. So, Harry decided to wander around and try and find something that looked familiar.

It wasn't that bad an idea considering he'd been in the forest a few times before and had certainly caused quite a bit of damage when he'd been there. There had to be something somewhere that he could recognize. That tree Weasley's car had run into and dented when they were being chased by acromantula. The multitudes of trees broken down by Grawp. Something.

As he wandered, Harry mused that he should probably feel out of place in the dark, formidable, haunting forest – it was only the afternoon, but the forest was already pretty dark, with the many trees blocking out the sun. However, Harry felt completely at home there; it reminded him of Azkaban in a way. Harry felt a tad nostalgic when a moment of missing the dementors went through him.

Yeah, he'd only been gone for a few days; but even when you leave family for a trip or something, you at least still get to see other humans. Harry had yet to see a dementor. Harry sighed, kicking his foot against a rock. He was definitely lost. Oh, well, all he had to do was find some dark creature – preferably a vampire; they at least can talk; and he could get them to help him out of the forest using his powerful skills of persuasion.

"Hey! Harry Potter! Out here! Alone! In the forbidden forest! Who wants to eat me?" Harry yelled, waving his arms and waiting for some mythical beast to attack him.

Suddenly, a large, black, robed figure glided quickly past Harry, knocking him off balance and right onto his butt. Harry stared. Why had some dementor he couldn't recognize just pushed onto the ground? The dementor kept gliding at his speed until Harry couldn't see it anymore. What was up with that?

*clip**clop*

*clip**clop*

Harry turned his head towards the sound of hoot beats that was drawing closer. He watched as four fully armed centaurs galloped into the clearing, bows and arrows pointed at him.

"Hello," Harry greeted cheerfully. "How are you today?" It couldn't hurt to be polite – Firenze had always been rather strict about manners. The centaurs ignored the greeting, and Bane, who it seemed was still their leader, rode forward to glare angrily at Harry, sticking the tip of his arrow right in Harry's face.

"What are you doing in our forest, human? I thought we had made it clear the last time we had met years ago that we, the centaurs, no longer allow your kind in our forest. Besides, you are a child no more, so you know we would no longer have a problem killing you. Why are you here? Speak swiftly, for my arrow is surely just as swift."

Harry calmly ignored the arrow invading his personal bubble and stared Bane down. "I'm just going to Hogwarts. No big deal. By the way, how did you know I was here?" Harry barely refrained from telling them exactly what they should do with _their forest._

Why did everyone keep underestimating him? He could take these four centaurs down easy, yet they were acting like they were so much more powerful than him.. Yeah, it was a good thing when it came to battle – cocky opponent = dead opponent – but this was getting down right annoying!

Bane's scowl got even deeper still. "We did not know _you_ would be here. Had we, we may have refrained from coming so that we did not have to see your face. Or maybe we would have brought more of us, so that we could bring you to your knees in respect to our kind. But, I digress; we were chasing that thing, that creature of darkness, when we happened upon you by what seems to be fate. I should cleanse the forest of your presence here and now."

Harry bristled immediately. "Dementors are not creatures of darkness! Insult me all you want, but don't you dare insult my family! If anything, they're prisoners of darkness. You centaurs act all sagely and holier than thou, but you're just as biased as the rest of the world. And you think you're so much better than us." Harry let out a bitter laugh. "Ha! You would fit in perfectly with the most self-important, judgmental, hypocritical purebloods out there!"

Bane poked his arrow dangerously closer towards Harry. "I should gut you right here and now for that offence. We know of the spell; one of our seers saw it." Harry gave a snort and then felt the arrow graze his nose, drawing a line of blood. Bane glared at him and continued. "We wouldn't be attacking that impure thing if it had not deliberately come into our camp and interrupted one of our sacred ceremonies."

Harry snorted at that, – exactly what sort of sacred ceremony? – but then a thought hit him. Had the dementor led them to Harry? And if so, had he led them here just so that they would try and kill him? Why would a dementor do that?

"Bane," Harry said warily, "I think we've both been had. The dementor must have led you to me in order try to get you to kill me. It was using you for its own means."

Bane's eyes lit up in anger, and he stomped his hooves forcefully. "IT tried to use us for its own depraved gain?"

"Yep, and if you kill me, the dementor will just have succeeded in using you. However, if you don't kill me but instead let me go free, you'll have thwarted it."

Bane looked at Harry for a long while, studying him, before he turned to the other three centaurs. "After the creature!" He yelled, galloping off into the direction the dementor had gone with the other three centaurs hot on his heel – hoof – whatever! Harry nearly avoided getting his head taken off by the arrow.

"Nice talking to you too!" Harry called out sarcastically. "See you at the next bridge meeting! Can't wait!" It was only after Bane was gone from his sight that Harry remembered that he'd forgotten to ask for directions.

'Oh, well,' he thought sullenly, 'he'd probably have just trampled me or something if I'd asked anyways,'

Harry sighed and started waking aimlessly once more. He hadn't been walking for long when another large, cloaked figure came barreling towards him. Harry didn't move, expecting this one to run past him like the other, and so, was extremely unprepared when the dementor came crashing into him, tackling him to the ground. Harry let out a loud "Ooof!" as the dementor's weight fell on top of him.

"Man, Harry, has being away from us dementors for just a few days already made you _that_ much stupider? First, you yell out you position, despite knowing about all the creepy crawlies in here; and then you just stand there when I'm coming towards you. I know you could have moved before I hit you. How dumb can you get?"

Harry gasped and looked up at the dementor on top of him in complete surprise. "Juan? What're you doing here?"

"I," Juan stated, climbing off Harry and pulling Harry up, "am here to save your ungrateful, idiotic, hero-complexed butt."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously, rolling his eyes at the put downs. What was this, Insult Harry Day?

"You're lost." Juan said bluntly.

Harry blushed. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Okay, then," Juan said slyly. "What way do you need to go to get to Hogwarts?"

"…"

"I thought so," Juan smiled smugly.

"Shut up, Juan." Harry dusted himself off and followed Juan through the forest.

"Sooooo," Juan grinned. "Centaurs are just as biased as the rest of the world, huh. You sure do have a knack for ticking off people groups."

Harry stopped mid-step. "You were there! Why didn't you – wait, never mind, that's _exactly_ the sort of thing you'd do."

"Hey," Juan defended himself. "You were doing pretty okay on your own."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, say that to my facial disfigurement." He pointed to the already healed scrape on his nose from the arrow. "Okay as in they were about to trample me to death."

"But they didn't, did they?"

Harry deemed this as too idiotic to comment on and asked instead, "Why did that dementor lead the centaurs to me, and who was he? I can't ever hope to know all of you dementors, but I didn't recognize him at all."

Juan sighed unhappily and refused to meet Harry's eyes. "That was Calin. He…doesn't like you. You wouldn't remember him because you never me him; he went out of his way to avoid you, as did several other dementors actually."

"But why did he try to kill me?" Harry questioned. He didn't get random murder attempts as often anymore. "I thought you guys at least tolerated me and wanted me to not die so that I could save you."

Juan gave a short laugh. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Harry. Most of us dementors like you quite a bit. However, there are a few dementors who don't like you, such as Calvin. These dementors…they don't want to be free of the curse. They, they _enjoy_ their powers and kissing people. You breaking the curse would destroy this…lifestyle they enjoy, and so, they don't like you and probably even want you dead. You can't expect every creature to be the same in a species or race."

Harry nodded his head solemnly. This hadn't occurred to him, but it should have. After al, weren't Dobby and Kreacher two examples of this? Still, it was disheartening to hear. "How do I know which of you to trust?"

"Easy," Juan grinned. "All the dementors you can trust, you've met. Our so wise and powerful leader issued an order so that no dementor who wished you harm could meet you. That's why Calvin ran away from you so fast."

"Do dementors run?" Harry asked interestedly.

Juan shrugged. "Not really, but you get the idea." Then, Juan just stopped, causing Harry to run into him and almost topple over again.

"What are you –" Harry broke off as he realized that they were at the edge of the forbidden forest, right near Hagrid's hut. Harry made sure that they were far enough away that even if Hagrid were in the hut, he wouldn't be able to see them. Harry started to move closer – he was planning to go towards Hogwarts gates and slip in through there, even though he could just go up from here; call it nostalgia, if you will – when he realized that Juan hadn't moved.

Harry felt around and found Hogwart's wards keeping Juan out. Harry was glad Juan was there for more reasons than one, as if Harry hadn't noticed that he wasn't moving and had taken a few more steps, he would have broken the wards, alerting Dumbledore to his presence. Not that Dumbledore would be able to respond at the moment. Harry moved closer towards Juan before looking at him questioningly.

"Why were you in the forest in the first place?"

Juan grimaced. "Lord Moldy Shorts has dementors regularly patrolling the forbidden forest for wandering students under order to _kiss_ any we find. Luckily, you're no longer a student, so you have nothing to worry about."

Harry patted Juan's shoulder in understanding before carefully turning towards the Hogwarts wards. They were so old and powerful that Harry knew that while he could get past them, it would take weeks to be able to do it without alerting the headmaster. The wards must have been absorbing all the excess magic students let off over the years for them to be this strong.

Harry very carefully reached with magic into the magic which was Hogwarts and asked to be allowed in without alerting anyone. Harry had a feeling this was what Black had done as well. Hogwarts immediately complied, letting Harry through the wards and leaving him with a warm feeling of comfort and encouragement in the pit of his stomach.

Juan smiled sadly as Harry stepped forward. "See you later, buddy. It was nice seeing you again."

Harry laughed and stepped forward to give Juan a hug. "Same here, mate. Now don't go off sucking some poor innocent kid's soul while I'm gone, you hear? …Or, at least, only if they deserve it."

Juan laughed and was about to respond when a soft, dreamy voice floated out from behind Harry. 'Who's sucking an innocent kid's soul?"

Harry whirled around, thinking for a moment that he'd been caught, before relaxing when he was who it was. "Hello, Luna," Harry smiled warmly, reaching forward to give her a hug, which she happily returned. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Harry, I've been patrolling the grounds. For some reason, they want all the teachers to do this. Personally, it seems restricting to the students' freedom to have a curfew at all; but despite my objections at our meetings, we still have to do this."

"Meetings?" Harry asked questioningly.

"Oh," Luna waved her hand dismissively. "I started up weekly staff meetings to discuss important issues that tend to go unnoticed, such as the humongous wrackspurt infestation or the fact that we serve spinach at dinner, which, according to Daddy, drastically stunts a young students' growth."

Luna shook her head sadly. "Headmaster Dumbledore was all for it, but none of the other teachers seem to take it seriously at all. It's sad the way the quality of today's educators has dropped. We need to grow and overcome old fashioned, close minded ways of thinking; but no one else seems to even want to try."

Harry patted her shoulder in sympathy. "It's a tragedy. Have you ever noticed how often closed minds are connected to open mouths. But don't worry, Luna, you'll get to them eventually."

Luna smiled happily at Harry. "Thank you, Harry. You know; you've been upsetting the wizarding world quite a bit, it seems. I'm writing an article for Daddy's paper on Minister Fudge's retirement after you revealed his incompetence to the world. Oh! Daddy wants me to thank you on behalf of goblins across the globe and would like to invite you to drop over anytime for dinner."

For a second, Harry had no idea what she was talking about before he remembered the article about Fudge baking goblins into pies or something like that. "No prob, Luna. Tell your dad that I'm grateful for his thanks and that I would be honored to come over for dinner some time."

Luna smiled dreamily again. "Anyways, the article talks about whether or not unattractiveness has anything to do with idiocy and incompetence in people in political positions. We think that this may be a key linking factor in all cases of corrupt and, or ineffectual leaders."

Harry nearly choked on his own laughter. "Unattractiveness?" He heard Juan burst into uncontrollable laughter behind him. "You may be onto something."

"Yes," Luna said sagely. "It was Daddy's idea, really. We tried interviewing Fudge, but he rather rudely declined, so we tried Umbridge." A small frown creased Luna's face at the memory before melting away into another sunny smile. "She threw things at us. Now we're working on a companion article as well on whether or not repulsiveness and lack of a social life has anything to do with anger management and cruelty issues in single witches over fifty."

Harry laughed again. No one should _ever_ get on Luna's bad side. Her revenge type tended to be worst. Maybe that's because of how hard you had to work to get her angry. Man, she must really dislike Umbridge. (Not hate; Harry didn't think Luna hated anyone, except maybe Voldemort. In which case, Voldemort didn't know what he was getting into, making her his enemy.)

"That's an article that could change the world, that is." Harry laughed out, still hearing Juan laughing behind him.

"That's very sweet, Harry," Luna smiled brightly before looking behind Harry. "Is that a dementor?" She asked. "I can't feel him because the wards keep his effects out."

"Er, yes?" Harry said hesitantly before cracking a smile. Of course Luna was interested in Juan; she was interested in anything odd or unusual. This whole encounter would probably turn into an article in the _Quibbler_. Harry smiled wider. Juan would love to read that.

"Can you translate?" Luna asked Harry excitedly, obviously already going over questions in her head to ask Juan.

"Sure. I just have to tell you what he says, though; he can understand you fine by himself,

"Great!" She said, her eyes alight at the thought of proving the world's truths wrong once more. "May I ask him some questions now? It is a him, correct?"

Harry looked over at Juan who shrugged and said, "Why not? She can ask whatever she wants."

"Um, his name is Juan, and he is a 'he.' Also, he said you can ask whatever you want. I, however, say you might not be satisfied with all the answers.

Smiling benignly, Luna turned to Juan and bowed, surprising both Juan and Harry. "It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you, Juan. My name is Luna Lovegood."

'Great, now he's going to have a big head for weeks,' Harry thought, a tad dismayed.

Luna continued without noticing Harry or Juan's reactions. "How old are you?"

"Erm, only about 160 or so. Pretty young for a dementor, actually." Juan said, a tad embarrassed at his _young_ age. Harry looked at Juan in mild amazement – 160 and he still acted like he was 12? – but translated anyways.

Luna considered this thoughtfully before launching into the next question. "Have you ever _kissed_ anyone?" Harry stared at Luna in disbelief; even he hadn't dared ask any of the dementors that one.

Juan looked a little taken aback, but he answered anyways via Harry. "Yes, once, I don't like to talk about it."

"Why not?" Luna pressed dreamily, trying to get him to open up. Harry suddenly noticed that she had a habit of doing that, getting people to spill all their baggage on to her so that they would feel better. Harry's eyes narrowed. Wait, was that why she always acted so extremely odd? He had always wondered if she acted that way on purpose.

People would probably be more likely to spill their guts to someone everyone thought was crazy anyways and wouldn't believe even if she told. Or they would tease her to make themselves feel better about whatever was going on. Was that why she took their teasing so happily?

Luna was a Ravenclaw, and Harry had the feeling that she acted so dreamy and out there for that reason – and so that she could go about her business unbothered. If anyone ever saw her doing something potentially weir, they would just think, "Oh, it's just Loony Lovegood being strange again is all," instead of bothering her about it.

This would also, certainly, be a good defense against death eaters and Voldemort, who wouldn't think she was worth asking to join or worth being silenced. Flying under the radar, Luna would be able to do much more good than if she revealed the sanity and talent that almost certainly resided beneath her exterior. Besides, it sounded like it was a lot of fun pretending to be insane.

Maybe Harry should try it; he _had_ been in Azkaban. It's not his fault if they'd been too scared of him to check whether or not he was actually sane. So, no one would think twice about him turning out to be insane. Mentally, Harry smacked himself for not realizing what Luna had been doing sooner. Her father had probably taught her.

After all, running a magazine that was thought to be made by crazy people was a good way to get the truth out – no one would bother shutting you down because who would believe you anyways? Harry had a feeling that a whole lot more people would be reading the _Quibbler_ now that he'd been proven innocent. Maybe he should sponsor it….

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed Juan's response. "Well, first of all, it goes against every set of morals I have. Second, well, it was my first kiss – quite a waste if you ask me. And third…it was Barty Crouch Junior."

Harry could barely translate that last part he was so shocked. He hadn't known that, and Harry couldn't help feeling a little guilty that he hadn't recognized Juan – even if he hadn't been able to tell the difference between dementors at the point in his life when he'd met him.

"I understand why you'd be upset about _kissing_ him, but did him being Barry Crouch Junior make it worse? I mean, he was a convicted murderer and death eater. Wouldn't you rather have _kissed_ him than some innocent civilian who hasn't done anything?"

"Well, er…yeah, that's true, but..." Juan blushed, a small pink tinge coloring his pale, white face, and mumbled a bit.

"What was that?" Harry strained to catch the words as Juan repeated himself, embarrassed.

"…He was a guy. They made me kiss a guy. I felt…gay. Never again, never again." Harry burst out laughing, translating between chuckles. Luna giggled a little as well before stepping forward and solemnly placing a comforting hand on Juan's arm through the barrier, shivering a tad at the contact.

"I'm sure that was very traumatizing for your, and I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Juan smiled for a moment before looking at Harry. "I like her. You sure do know how to pick 'em, Harry. I'll leave you two lovebirds to it; see you later, and tell the lady I said bye."

With that, Juan glided back into the forest, leaving Harry blushing and spluttering, saying things like, "What the heck does that mean?" and "Dirty minded dementors."

"What did he say?" Luna asked curiously.

"N-nothing," Harry replied, blushing even brighter. He started to get ready to leave for the castle, desperate for escape all of a sudden, even to Hogwarts. "Look, Luna, I'm sorry; but I really need to esc-get going and do a couple of things in Hogwarts. I'll come by again before I leave Hogwarts. I may even see you while I'm there; this could take a few–!"

The rest of Harry's words were lost as Luna gently reached up and touched her lips to Harry's, pulling him close. Harry felt his arms automatically go around her neck. The kiss lasted a few seconds before a slightly pink but satisfied-looking Luna stepped back, sill keeping here arms loosely around Harry's waist.

"What w-was that f-for?" Harry stammered incoherently. Darn, he was starting to sound like UA.

"In case you don't come back." Luna said seriously, as if it made all the sense in the world.

"Wait, but I'm just going up to Hogwarts. And while I do dread going up to that place in the very depths of my soul, I hardly think it's _that_ dangerous."

Luna shook her head. "Maybe not physically, but it's dangerously emotionally. Besides, Juan was here to see you off. Whatever he was doing n the forbidden forest must have been important, so I assumed he was taking a risk even just coming to the edge of the forest with you. So I kissed you. I didn't' want to regret anything in case of the very slim off chance that you were caught by Dumbledore or couldn't say good bye before you left."

Harry looked at Luna, baffled for a moment, before a warm and sunny smile spread across his face. "Don't worry, Luna, I'll be fine. Juan just wanted to make sure I got out of the forbidden forest alright. You see, I have a hopeless sense of direction."

Luna began giggling. "The Great Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, can survive Voldemort _and_ Azkaban but can't find his way out of a forest. That's too funny! Imagine what they'd say in the Daily Prophet!" Luna's giggles turned into full blown, hysterical laughter; and Harry couldn't help joining in.

"Hey, it's a big forest," he defended himself humorously.

After a few moments, Luan and Harry's laughter subsided; and Luna looked up at Harry and shrugged. "Oh, well, it was a nice kiss, anyways." Harry's smile grew wider. He leaned down to press his lips softly to hers again before turning to go. Luna kept her arms tight around him, eyes downcast for the first time Harry had ever seen, burying her head in his chest, and murmured softly, "Harry, whatever happens when you go up to Hogwarts, just know that however you feel is okay. Hogwarts was your home, and whatever happened later, you still have lots of wonderful memories there. I don't want you to feel guilty for being happy to be back. I want you to heal, Harry, and in order to heal, you need to confront your past there. You'll never be truly free from the pain of your past until you can forgive those who hurt you. And in order to forgive them, you need to confront them." Harry made move to protest, Luna quietly shushed him. "You may not want to forgive now, and it may take a long time for you to; but you will. It's just not in you to hate someone so completely as to be able to hate them forever. And if you were to keep on hating, Voldemort would win."

Harry sighed. "You-you're right, Luna, but I'm just not ready to forgive them yet. I don't know if I ever will be." Kreacher's words echoed in Harry's ears.

"_They refused to go along with the plan, didn't they? They told off Dumbledore in front of his entire little Order, didn't they? And they left! Refusing to come back until Dumbledore has failed in trying to capture you and decides not to try again!"_

Maybe…maybe he could forgive them eventually.

Luna smiled in comfort, as if sensing Harry's dilemma. "And that's alright, Harry. You'll figure things out, and you'll know when it's time to set aside the past and forgive them. I know you will."

Harry smiled gratefully and reached down to kiss Luna one more time, this time longer and more patiently. 'Good bye, Luna, I'll see you later."

"Good bye, Harry," Luna responded automatically as Harry pulled away and walked up towards the castle. She stood there for a few minutes, hand pressed to her lips, completely lost in thoughts, before smiling brightly and continuing on her pointless rounds, – it wasn't like she was actually going to do anything to anyone she caught – skipping happily the rest of the way.

**Author's Note: Hi, hope you liked that chapter. I think it was the longest one yet. I loved having Juan back in it and just suddenly decided to put Luna in too. I hope she wasn't **_**too**_** out of character. Hmm…I don't have much to say today, so bye! Keep reading! And Review! My Jedi mind powers command you! This is the droid you're looking for!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! (Sigh, too tired tonight to try to make up something funny.)**

Chapter 16 - Finally, he's at Hogwarts!

Harry cast an invisibility spell on himself and walked around the outskirts of Hogwarts, towards the gate. As soon as he reached the large, ironclad gate, Harry began the long trek up the dirt road. Ugh! Why did the Hogwarts territory have to be so darn huge?

Slowly, but surely, Hogwarts began looming up above until Harry was standing right in front of the front door, huge and magnificent in it's full wooden glory. Harry grimaced outwardly as he looked up at the familiar old castle, though inwardly, he was fighting a smile; and he was mad at himself for it.

Despite everything he'd gone through here and the people inside, Harry couldn't help but feel deep-seated relief wash through him at the sight of Hogwarts' doors. This place had always been his home, the first home he'd ever known. Harry had never wanted to leave for summer, dreaded it even, and not just because he would be leaving his friends and the only family he'd known (though, of course, they were no friends or family of his now) but because he'd have to leave this castle.

Even the feel of the cold stone corridors underneath his feet and the hard wooden seats of the great hall had filled him with comfort and joy, no matter what he'd been going through. Harry had loved this old building so much; he'd even considered trying to come back as a teacher, though many had believed he had wanted to be an auror. It was a secret dream he'd held deep inside his heart. But now, he couldn't truly go back, not while all these traitors were here; and he couldn't forgive them.

Harry felt a deep ache at knowing that he was here for now, but could never really come back, never really belong, not that he had ever truly belonged anyways. Harry felt sadness well up within him, as well as yearning for those innocent days back at Hogwarts when he hadn't known any better.

For years, Hogwarts had been his home, practically a sentient presence in his life; but now, it was just a building. It had always been just a building, a building filled to the brim with magic, but a building no less. Harry realized this now. But it had never felt that way to him before.

Harry pushed away his disappointment and settled forostalgia. His memories here were ones he'd always treasure – he realized at Azkaban that he should look past his recent bad memories and into the good past ones. He felt that even more now. Just the thought of Hogwarts had brought a smile to his face, even when he'd had no reason to smile. (Before the smile froze and turned to sadness at the thoughts of the people there, which were soon to follow.) Not even his six months in Azkaban or the betrayal of his most loved ones could change that.

But he had his own home now, a home with people -dementors? - Who would never betray his trust. He never had to feel alone like he had those first six months at Azkaban, or maybe even through his life at Hogwarts, ever again. Now all he had to do was think of Juan or Cindy or Uncle Morty or any of the dementors, and he felt like he was back at Azkaban, surrounded by those who cared for him and whom he cared about, a place that was his home in every sense of the word.

Funny how even when he'd been at Hogwarts, he had been surrounded by people who hadn't liked him, hated him, even; and he'd had to be forced to go to a world famous prison reserved for the worst sort of people to feel truly safe and loved. Ironic, but then again, his whole life was filled with irony. Harry felt all of his negative feelings wash away, and he felt better than he had in a long time.

Even if the horcrux hadn't been at Hogwarts, Harry probably would have needed to come anyways to confront his past. He couldn't' run away from it; he needed to face it and accept that that part of his life was over and move on. And so, he had.

Feeling a whole new person and with Luna's words echoing in his heart, Harry headed off carefully through the doors into the halls he'd walked so many times and years before. His life was no longer here, but that didn't mean he couldn't ever come back. Harry felt he had finally started to heal, far more than he ever had with the well-intentioned but unhelpful advice of the dementors. **(1)**

Harry heaved a sigh of relief at his new found feeling of freedom and pushed open the doors. He cringed as they let out a loud squeak. Just how old way Hogwarts anyways? The place was in bad need of a paint job or something. Harry closed the door with another grimace at the sound and padded softly down the corridor. Suddenly, he heard a voice ring out form the hallway opposite, and he froze.

"Luna?"

Harry heaved a sigh of relief that he was invisible and waited for whoever it was to come close enough for him to see who it was.

"Luna?" Harry watched as Professor McGonagall walked briskly towards the now close front door, wand alight. "Luna, are you back from your rounds?" she asked, glancing around for Luna.

Harry grumbled to himself; she must have heard that stupid door creak. McGonagall glanced around suspiciously, but as she could see no one there and there had not been a breach in the wards, she moved on, patrolling further down the hallway. However, she kept sending suspicious looks back towards the door where Harry was.

Harry chuckled silently a bit before turning to walk down the hallway and nearly funning into Professor Flitwick. With a gasp, Harry stepped out of the short man's way and stood still for a second. How many teachers were at this school? And think of all the students who would be roaming around the halls come the next day. Harry knew that finding the horcrux would take a while – the dementors only knew it was in the room of requirement.

He needed to find a way to get around without bumping around into people. He couldn't just walk around invisible; people would run into him. The balding wizard in the picture next Harry's head snorted in his sleep, drawing Harry's attention to him. Hmm…unless they were making a particularly large amount of noise, acting different than wizards expected them to, or were just plain strange looking, the pictures on the walls of Hogwarts hardly ever drew attention to themselves.

Plus, they could move inconspicuously from one picture to another. The idea had merit. Hmm…maybe he could…? He just had to make sure the pictures stayed silent. They were mounted on Hogwarts, were a part of Hogwarts, so did that mean they had to answer to Hogwarts? Harry reached out with his magic into the presence that was Hogwarts.

He pushed what he wanted the paintings to do to the front of his mind, hoping the magic that filled Hogwarts would catch his drift. Harry felt a small rush of magic come from the ancient building and swirl through every painting, too weak for most wizards to feel, but strong enough to wake the portraits. They looked around, muttering and grumbling, trying to figure out what had woken them.

Harry gritted his teeth and hoped Hogwarts had done what he'd wanted. Harry wandlessly did something that no wizard had ever thought to do before; (ok, so maybe they had thought of it; but Harry doubted anyone had actually done it) he willed himself into the painting.

It was a strange feeling, merging with the painting. Being two dimensional was, simply put, weird. The portrait of the young witch Harry assumed was a nun by her cowl and cross gave a stat when he suddenly appeared in her painting. Huh, so invisibility charms don't work in paintings – something to remember.

They young girl took in his hair, his eyes, and the scar on his forehead, and moved to scream and alert the professors to his presence when…nothing happened. She had opened her mouth and was visibly straining to scream, but no sound came out. She wrapped her hands around her neck and glared reproachfully at Harry, sure he had something to do with this.

"What did you-" she stopped and looked around, confused. "But didn't you silence…?" She turned to yell over at McGonagall, but, once more, she was unable to say a word. She opened and closed her mouth, gaping like a fish, before settling for running to the portrait next door and trying to alert the man in it to Harry's presence. Her efforts were thwarted, however, as not only could she not speak about Harry's presence, but she couldn't even gesture towards him.

Harry laughed. This was a rather fun way to keep anyone from finding out he was here. He had to give props to Hogwarts. Now all he had to do was make sure no one of the non-painting variety saw him, and, quite frankly, if he slipped up and let them see him, he would deserve to be caught. Harry stepped out of the nun's now empty portrait to the one on his left. It was rather like just walking through a door; however, it was accompanied by the unpleasant sensation of being wet, even though he knew he wasn't.

Harry moved over to the large, comfy chair in the painting and sat down with a happy sigh, ignoring the silent gasps, gestures, and fish impressions of the two old wizards living in the portrait. Eventually, after having ignored them for a while, the generally happier-looking wizard gave a sigh of defeat and went to go sit in the other chair, pulling a book out from behind it.

The grumpier-looking wizard, however, turned and came closer to Harry and started yelling in Harry's face, though none of his words could be heard. The wizard was _extremely_ lucky that Hogwarts had decided to bleep out his yelling and that you couldn't kill a portrait. Though, Harry could read his lips; and the man was rather crude.

Harry pushed the wizard out of his face, and the old man fell back with a cry of indignation. Harry felt a flash of pity before pushing it away as the man straightened up and walked huffily out of the painting. The wizard in the chair didn't even look up from his book.

Harry settled back in the comfy chair with another sigh. Okay, so he was here, at Hogwarts…now what? He knew the diadem was in the room of requirement, but he had no clue what he should think to get in to wherever the diadem was. Hmm… Harry thought for a little while before giving up and standing. Oh, well, maybe an idea would come to him while he got the Basilisk fang.

The wizard in the chair looked up at Harry's movement, and Harry nodded his head in farewell as he moved on to the next painting; the wizard raised his book briefly in a quick good bye before burying his nose in it once more. Harry wondered briefly how many times the old wizard had read that book. Maybe there was a painting of the library around here somewhere, and he got his books form there.

As he came upon the next portrait, Harry found the grumpy wizard desperately trying to pantomime about Harry to two wizards decked out in adventuring gear. He just laughed and walked past, to the two young wizard's open shock and the old wizard's disgruntlement. Harry went through many paintings on his way to the girls lavatory, filled with many different kinds of people and animals. In some paintings, like the one with the couple so involved with each other that it was _so_ not appropriate for a school, Harry could walk through unnoticed. However, this was mostly not the case.

The morning light was just beginning to peak over the horizon as Harry finally made it to the hallway outside the girl's lavatory. Most of the paintings had decided it would be a good idea to try and stop Harry, and so, a ten minute trip had been lengthened into hours. Someone had even decided to put Sir Cadogen's painting up in the main hallway; it had taken Harry at least an hour to get past the dodgy old knight. By this point, Harry was having serious day dreams about burning Sir Cadogen's painting…and whoever it was who had the brilliant idea to put him up in the main hallway.

Harry glanced up and down the hallway to see if anyone was coming. There were no paintings inside the bathrooms, and for good reason, too; who wants to have someone watching you while you go to the bathroom? The closest Harry had ever seen was the mermaid in that one prefect's washroom. Seeing no one, – it was, like, 2 am…no teacher stayed up that late to make rounds – Harry slipped out the painting of the four large Doberman's just before one of them decided it would be fun to take a snap at him.

Harry felt so much more comfortable and happy being 3D that he even took the liberty of sticking his tongue out childishly at the Dobermans. Why did they even have some of the pictures here? That one picture with the clowns…Harry would never be the same. There are some things he wouldn't even wish on Voldemort. It was a wonder no parent had complained and gotten it removed because their child was having nightmares, but then again Harry had had to live through that painting, even if only for a few moments.

Harry quietly pushed open the door to the bathroom and was slowly creeping towards the opening of the chamber of secrets when,

"Harry!"

The cry of his name startled Harry into slipping on the smooth marble surface of the floor and hitting his head on one of the sinks with a loud *clang*. With a groan of pain, Harry sat up, rubbed the knot that was now forming on the back of his head, and opened his eyes only to find himself staring into the ghostly, bespectacled eyes of the one and only Moaning Myrtle.

"Harry, it is you!" Myrtle exclaimed happily. "I knew you were innocent, and now you've come all the way to Hogwarts just to visit me!" She appeared overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry.

"Oh, er, sure, Myrtle," Harry lied, looking around for escape. "Hey, uh, please don't cry. Uh, look, I gotta go down to the, um, chamber now, but hey, I've got good news for you."

Myrtle looked up, eyes watery. "rea-*hic*-ly?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said, thinking desperately. "Well, you know how Peeves is always picking on you?"

"*hic* Yes," Myrtle looked about reproachfully, still crying a bit, as if afraid the poltergeist was somewhere near.

"Well, it's because ,bye," Harry said this all in a rush before springing towards the chamber entrance, opening it with a hiss, and jumping down the hole, never happier to see a dark, enclosed space covered in dirt and germs and filled with dead animal carcasses in his entire life.

"W-what?" Myrtle looked about and began to cry even harder. "You're just making fun of me!" she wailed, diving headfirst into her toilet.

Meanwhile, in the chamber, Harry stood up, picking pieces of skeletons and fur from the dead animal on the floor off his butt in disgust. Suddenly, the though occurred to him that if he was trying to escape Myrtle, maybe he shouldn't have jumped into the chamber. She could have just followed him down, and then he would be trapped with Moaning Myrtle down here…in the chamber…with no escape. Ugh, just the thought sent shivers up Harry's spine. At least she was so easily offended she wouldn't follow him.

Harry walked down the tunnel, wincing as he heard the bones snap and crack under his feet, and arrived at the place where he'd killed the basilisk. And, man, did that place reek! A 50 foot decaying, venom-filled snake does **not** smell good when it's been there for 7 years. Fighting of waves of nausea, Harry covered his nose with his cloak and crept forward. The thing wasn't even halfway done decomposing, and, Harry had to admit, the sight of it would be enough to make a veteran auror gag.

Looking around, Harry reached carefully into the snake's mouth and tried to pull the fang out. He had to twist it a few times before it dame out with a sickening squelch! Harry nearly tossed his cookies **(2)** at the sound. He cast a quick _scourgify_ on the filthy fang before shrinking it and pocketing it after placing a charm on it so that it wouldn't accidentally poke him or something.

Harry then did what most people would call "running like a scared little girl for safety," but that he would call "making a dashing exit." As soon as he reached where he had jumped from, Harry looked up at the long fall he had taken. Carefully, Harry cast a levitating charm on himself and floated up the long tunnel. He took off the charm as soon as he reached the lavatory and shut the chamber with a soft hiss.

He glanced around uneasily, as if expecting Myrtle to suddenly burst forth out of one of the walls, which she well could. Luckily for Harry, though, she was still off sulking somewhere; and so, Harry quickly scurried across the restroom without trouble. He quickly slipped into one of the paintings in the hallway that had nothing but scenery.

He sat down beside the lake in the painting and contemplated what to do next. It was still only, like, 3 am; and he hadn't slept in a while. Suddenly, and image of the one and only Draco Malfoy came to his mind. Draco worked here. Harry remembered reading about him taking over the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Strangely enough, he was the only one able to break the curse and had been working here for 3 years. Where had Lupin's rooms been? Oh, now Harry remembered. Wait, darn! Now he'd have to go by Sir Cadogen again! Ugh!

Harry walked through painting after painting again; Draco's rooms _would_ be on the other side of the castle. He felt out with his magic to try and find out if there was a painting inside Draco's room. (How did portraits do that, anyways?) Harry uncertainly turned to the back of the painting in front of Draco's rooms. He felt extremely uncomfortable as he passed through the stone wall into the other painting. He shivered at the unpleasant feeling and quickly moved out of the painting of…-was that a rainbow?-and into Draco's rooms. Looking around at the darkened room, Harry saw a thin, sleeping form on sheets that looked like they were made of silk. Oh, he was in Draco's bedroom. Good thing Draco wasn't spending the night with anyone…_that_ would have been awkward. Harry walked over next to the form lying on the humongous king-sized bed and lay down. Draco could deal with sharing for one night. Harry lay back without taking off his clothes or even getting under the covers and slowly felt sleep overtake him.

**Author's Note: (1) How's that for an inner monologue. What do you think? Too lengthy? A little repetitive? I tried to keep it from going on and on, but I may have not done a very good job.**

**(2) Chapter one reference again!**

**Thanks very much for reading this chapter. It's not the longest, but, oh, well. By the way, I am going to try to start replying to all of your reviews, but I may miss a few, so if I accidentally skip you, sorry. I did not mean to. Anyway, please keep reading.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Again, back wards, rettoP yrraH now ton od I.**

Chapter 17-The-Boy-Who-Lived…OCD?

"Mmmm," Draco rolled over in the barely existing morning light and felt his hand fall over a slighter, tan one. His hand reached out and touched hard muscle and soft hair. Stopping his stretching in shock, Draco blinked and opened his eyes. He stared. Why was Harry Freaking Potter in his bed? **(1)**

He jumped back with a strangled yelp and retracted his arm from where it had looped around Harry's waist and pulled his hand back from where it had been touching Harry's hair. Harry yawned sleepily and slowly sat up. "Whatareyouyellingabout,Draco?"

Draco stopped in confusion, surprise and anger forgotten in curiosity as to what Harry had said. "What?"

Harry yawned again and repeated, "What are you yelling about, Draco?"

Draco felt his outrage return full force. "Ha-" He stopped. "Potter, what are you doing in my bed. Answer before I hex you into oblivion.

Harry looked up at Draco serioiusly. "Draco, you can call me Harry. We've cuddled. We're there; we've reached that point. **(2) **And no need for the threats, please; it's far too early in the morning for that. Besides, your bed is huge; you can afford to share for one night."

"Oh, um," Draco stood uneasily for a second, confused and unsure of what to do. He had a certain right to be; I mean, how often does a hero, then convict, and now hero again, that you used to hate but now seem to suddenly be friends with, randomly show up in _your_ bed at 7 in the morning? Not often, I'm sure.

Draco checked his eyes to see is he was seeing what he thought he was seeing before gathering his wits. "Harry, what are you doing in my bed?" Now he just sounded world weary, not angry; and he knew it. Harry tended to have that affect on people.

"Sleeping," Harry replied, smirking.

Draco immediately gave up that line of interrogation; Harry was looking way to smug, and Draco knew he wasn't going to get any info with that approach. "How did you get into Hogwarts?"

"Through the front door."

Draco groaned out loud, and Harry's smirk grew noticeably larger. Hand covering his face, Draco tried again. "Why are you at Hogwarts?"

"Well, actually…" Draco peeked out hopefully from between his fingers. "I need your help."

"Ugh! Can't you give me a straight answer? Why on earth would you need my help?" Draco exploded angrily. He just wanted to get a cup of coffee or something; it was _way_ too early in the morning to do this.

Harry smiled lazily and formed a peace sign at Draco. "Chillax, man. Go with the flow, ya know."

"What?" Draco all but screamed in frustration. He had no time for stupid muggle references; he wanted his coffee, Darnit, and for the world to suddenly make sense again and Harry Potter not to be lying on his bed.

"Take a chill pill?" Harry tried hopefully. At Draco's glare, he sighed. "Relax, Draco. You're lucky there are silencing charms in here. Now, as to your questions,"

"You mean you're actually going to answer them? After all that show of avoiding them?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Of course, Draco. Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked confusedly, inwardly grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"But I, you…" Draco broke off and took a deep breath. If he lost his temper, Harry would stop at nothing to drive him completely and totally insane.

"Well," Harry continued, still smirking. "I'll go out of order. I needed to come to Hogwarts in order to find a few things."

"What things?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Eh," Harry shrugged. "Just one thing, now; but I need it in order to defeat Voldemort. It's Ravenclaw's Diadem, and don't say, 'But that's lost.' It's here at Hogwarts. Don't ask me how I know it's here and why I need it because that would take way too long to explain."

Draco blinked before saying, "I'm still at a loss as to how this is connected to me."

"Well, I need your help for a couple of things. First of all, I need your help finding the diadem; you must have some idea of where we could start looking for it at least. Second of all, I need your help with the lower level deatheaters." Draco's eyebrows rose in a silent question, so Harry went on.

"You, being a _Malfoy_, must have a good bit of influence among them. I need you, simply, to find out how many of them you can convince to help me. Not directly, of course. I only need them to not attack me in a while when I go visit Voldy; they don't even need to attack the real deatheaters, though they're welcome to if they want."

'But how are you going to get into the castle?"

"I got that covered. And so, that is what I am doing in your bed."

"What?" Draco was taken aback at the rather abrupt change in direction the conversation had taken. "How does that have anything to do with me waking up with you in my bed?"

"You mean I didn't explain?" Harry looked confused.

"NO!"

"Oh, well, I just came into Hogwarts really early this morning, or maybe really late last night…? Anyways, I hadn't slept the night before; and I needed to talk to you so I just crawled into your bed instead of waking you up."

"Er, I'm not going to thank you for that. And you still haven't told me how you got into Hogwarts."

"Oh," Harry said brightly, "Hogwarts likes me."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Hogwarts…likes you?"

"Yep," Harry chirped cheerfully. Draco stared at Harry in concern. "What are you doing?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Wondering why you weren't taken to St. Mungos after you came back from Azkaban to see just how sane you are."

Harry shrugged. "They were probably afraid I'd hex them into oblivion if they tried to make me do anything. I might have gone pre-Fudge, but post-Fudge, I never would do what they asked, even if it might have been for my own good. I think it showed on my face because the healers seemed to decide that if I was able to mouth off to the minister off magic then they didn't need to check me. I did look pretty healthy considering where I'd been. But why back talking to the leader magic in Britain didn't make them think I was insane, I don't know."

Draco looked rather upset at this. "Still, that's wrong. For all we knew, you could have been half dead. Or you could have gone completely insane and been about to murder us all."

"Oh, so you weren't worried about me," Harry said humorously before shrugging. "Eh, it's not like most of you wouldn't have deserved it. Besides, the fact that I could out-argue Dumbles probably helped out in the 'he's sane' train of thought. So, there you have it; the consensus is that I'm sane."

"I'm not so sure," Draco said before tactfully changing the subject. "I'll do it."

"Do what?"

"I'll join you, but know this, _Potter_, you had better not let me down."

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "I won't; I won't. And I thought you were calling me Harry." Harry grinned at the glare Draco sent him. "Thank you, Draco. I appreciate your help."

Draco gave him a thin smile in return before moving to get dressed. Fortunately for Harry, Draco was wearing boxer shorts, so he didn't have to go scrub out his eyeballs anytime soon, like that one time with male ex-best friend. Though, certainly, Draco was much better looking than Weasley, though Harry would never admit it.

"Then it's time for us to go get that diadem or whatever. I think I might know where it could be, but I wasn't to go to breakfast first. You can come along invisibly." Draco turned to look at Harry's clothes distastefully. "Are you going to be wearing that?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked in resignation. "I'm just going to be invisible anyways."

"It matters because you're going to be with me, a Malfoy, invisible or not." Draco reached into his closet and rummaged around until he found a pair of pants, a t-shirt, and a cloak that all looked like they may fit Harry. He tossed them over to Harry, who began pulling them on, grumbling.

"Won't people notice if there's an empty spot next to you where I'll be?" Harry asked as he slipped on the cloak, and Draco primped in the mirror.

"You won't be next to me," Draco replied. "You'll be eating under the table."

"Again?" Harry complained.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

Harry faltered. "I-I mean, what am I, your dog?"

"Sit, boy," Draco said, smirking. With a final fluff of his hair, Draco said a quick, "Let's go," and pulled Harry over towards the door. Harry cast an invisibility spell on himself and followed Draco as he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

The amount of students gradually increased the further away from Draco's rooms they got, and Harry would surely have ended up getting caught had it not been for al the time he'd spent practicing with his father's invisibility cloak during school. As it was, he was still occasionally bumping into students, who would look confusedly in his direction and would get a glare from Draco in return.

'Darn, he must be getting lessons from Snape,' Harry thought as he watched a fourth student scurry away under Draco's harsh gaze. Hmm, speaking of Snape, should Harry tell him he was there? Harry could just here Snape now.

'_You dunderhead! You're even worse than the rest of the Gryffindor idiots! Why the devil would you return to Hogwarts? Even I thought you were smarter than this, and I've met slugs with more intelligence than you!'_

Yeah, because Harry **really** wanted to hear that. So…no Snape. Besides, Harry still didn't quite like him very much.

Harry and Draco waded through the sea of students (just how many people go to this school?) and into the great hall. There were only two teachers up there, and a few students still eating. It was a Thursday, so the students would have class; and most of the teachers would have classes soon. The two teachers up at the head table were that Ancient Runes teacher Vic or something and Trelawney.

Harry smiled. What sort of fun could he have with her while invisible? Draco and Harry walked up to the teacher's table. Draco sat down next to Trelawney, eying her with distaste, and slyly pushed Harry down under the table. Harry had to muffle a cry of pain as his head hit the bench, but Trelawney could hear said thud. She looked over from her…what was she eating? Harry didn't want to know. Probably some sort of food to boost her "inner eye."

She stared at Draco, and her large, bug-like eyes widened. "My dear boy," she whispered, voice quivering. "A dark spirit follows you. It has captured you within its grasp. You are being haunted. I must do more research on this if we are to save you from the dark and gruesome death the fates have foretold for you by way of this lone angry spirit. Perhaps you have gained a grudge over the years. Tell me; who do you know that would like to see you dead?"

Draco seemed at a loss of what to say, and he just looked at her. Trelawney herself looked extremely excited. Harry, from under the table, felt mildly insulted. He was not a dark spirit; he was angry, though, to be back here. Harry couldn't tell if she was just making this up and got lucky or if she could actually sense him somehow. …Stupid nondescript seer powers.

Harry shuffled over to her under the table, "accidentally" grabbing Draco's thigh to steady himself as he did so. Draco stiffened but kept up his staring contest with Trelawney, and Harry chuckled silently, getting way too much enjoyment out of this. Harry cast a wandless tickling charm under his breath and barely got away in time as her legs started kicking out at the sensation.

She began laughing hysterically and glanced under the table to check for anyone. By now, the entire great hall was looking at them. "My dear," she gasped out between bouts of breathless laughter. "The spirit obviously is angered at me alerting you to its presence. Quick, tell me; have you had any harsh breakups with any deceased girlfriends lately? Boyfriends?"

Harry nearly laughed out loud. She was not only trying to boost her standing as a seer but get some gossip out of it too! When Draco refused to comply, she continued. "Hurry, Draco! You must tell me anything you know. We must purify you of this spirit as soon as possible! We must hurry before he silences me before I can help you!"

Snickering soundlessly, Harry cast a _silencio_ charm on her, just to move things along. By now, her eyes were practically the size of dinner plates. She began opening and closing her mouth, desperately gesturing that she was unable to speak.

"Is she choking?" Harry heard one of the students still there call out.

"If she is, let her!" Harry heard another jokingly respond. Apparently, she wasn't too well-liked.

Trelawney continued to gesture wildly with her hands while Draco just looked at her. "Professor Trelawney, somehow I do not think that Professor Malfoy is being followed by a spirit of any kind, and if you would stop pretending to be unable to speak, I would greatly appreciate it!"

Harry jumped and banged his head on the table again as McGonagall's voice suddenly rang out. He hadn't been able to see her approach from under the table, though he really should have been able to hear her. Trelawney continued to scream with out making a sound, and McGonagall sighed and whipped out her wand. "_Finite Incantantatem!"_

Immediately, Trelawney's screams echoed loudly across the hall. Harry wondered fleetingly, as he pressed both hands to his ears so hard it began to ache, whether she was distantly related to a banshee. She stopped after a few seconds when she discovered she was making sound. Trelawney glanced around confusedly, and, if Harry was right, a little bit dejectedly.

"You see?" McGonagall said form between gritted teeth. Harry could practically _hear_ her eye twitching. "Obviously, some student just hexed you as a sort of prank. It had nothing to do with spirits, ones following Professor Malfoy or not. Now kindly go to your classroom and prepare for your next class." McGonagall fixed a glare towards Trelawney so icy it had Harry wishing he'd asked _her_ for lessons.

She and Snape had both turned glaring into an art form. Harry wondered if anyone had ever arranged a glaring contest between the two of them; it would be epic. Hey, he didn't have to like someone to admire their glaring capabilities. Snape was a prime example of this.

Trelawney stayed put for a few seconds, shocked at the rude attitude that had been displayed for no reason whatsoever, before huffing and gathering her things. She stood up, and Harry caught snippets of conversation to herself that sounded like, "stiff minded old women," and "without the inner eye," and "don't understand what it's like to be a true seer." She then walked down the Great Hall and unhappily left, sending longing filled glances up towards Draco the entire time.

"Looks like someone's got the hots for Draco!" Harry muttered in a sing song vice, just low enough that Draco would hear it; but no one else would. Harry stifled another laugh as Draco kicked his foot out at Harry in response only to yelp in pain as it hit one of the legs of the table.

McGonagall turned from where'd she'd been watching Trelawney leave, a self-satisfied smile on her face, to look at Draco, one eyebrow cocked questioningly. "Something wrong, Professor Malfoy?"

Draco looked up in surprise form where he'd been grimacing in pain over his leg and said unconvincingly, "Uh…leg cramp." Harry snorted under the table. McGonagall's other eyebrow joined the one already raised at the sound. "I, uh, I'm getting a head cold, too," Draco said, more convincingly this time, though. McGonagall still didn't look convinced, but as classes were starting soon, she left with a terse good bye.

Draco sighed in relief and continued eating, passing Harry food under the table as he did so. Draco didn't' have any classes for a couple of hours, so they could take their time. When they were done, they both got up, and Harry carefully followed Draco down the now deserted hallways. Then, Draco stopped right where the room of requirement was. Harry rolled his eyes, but the gesture was lost on Draco as he was invisible.

"I could have thought of this, but you'd have to know what to ask for, and it could take forever to find the right room, let alone search it."

Draco smirked. "Well, lucky for you, I know what to ask it." Draco stood in front of the blank wall for a few seconds before it transformed and a large wooden door appeared. Draco smirked again as he pushed open the door and walked in with Harry following him. Harry got rid of the invisibility charm upon entering. Inside, Harry found himself in the room where he had dumped the half blood prince's potions book all those years ago.

"In here? Seriously?" Harry asked incredulously before the reality of the situation hit him. "The diadem is lost. This is where people come to lose things…makes sense in a weird way."

"Yep," Draco smiled triumphantly. "I figured that if no one else in this crazy school has found it yet, then it's gotta be at a place where lost things stay lost. Thus, here. Now…you have any idea what this diadem looks like?"

Harry looked around at the mounds and mounds of useless, broken, or scandalous junk and groaned.

~2 Hours Later~

"I still say we should just douse the place with fiendfyre," Harry complained loudly as he sifted through _another_ pile of crap. Draco ducked his head out from behind a large coffin and cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you know how to use fiendfyre?"

"Yes," (barely)

"It's still a no," Draco responded, leaving Harry to huff impatiently as he dove back into that pile of whatever that was, searching for the diadem. Draco's voice carried over to Harry through the copious amount of dust they'd raised. "Do you have any idea how valuable a lot of this stuff is? It'd be a waste to torch it. Besides, I don't exactly trust you to be able to control that fire well enough that you won't torch us too."

Harry harrumphed grumpily before turning back to his pile. He was currently going through what seemed to be a bunch of ancient-time dolls that looked remarkably like Barbie dolls. He picked up a Ken-like one, which, for some reason, was in drag and dropped it with a yelp as the demented doll tried to bite his hand. Why did it come to life? When it fell on the floor, the demon toy began trying to bite Harry's ankle. All the while, it kept saying random annoying catchphrases that I won't even put in this fanfic, that's how horrifying they are.

Harry hurriedly kicked the thing away with another yelp of pain. The evil little drag queen doll went flying…all the way into an ancient (and probably invaluable) suit of armor. Harry winced as the suit came crashing down with a loud clang that brought Draco running.

"What did you do?" He demanded as Harry and he ran to go check out the suit.

Harry shrugged weakly and said, "The possessed doll tried to bite me."

Draco didn't seem to know what to say to that, so he just shook his head. The suit of armor was in pieces, and Harry cautiously reached down to pick up the helmet. Turning it over, he felt something cold and smooth drop into his hand. Looking down, he saw that it was…the diadem.

Harry and Draco exchanged a look before Harry quickly pulled the shrunken fang from his pocket. "You keep a basilisk fang in your pocket?" Draco exclaimed in surprise.

Harry shrugged. "Sure, you never know when you'll need one." He quickly removed the shrinking charm and took it out of its casing before proceeding to hand it to Draco.

"Why do I have the fang?" Draco asked dryly.

"You have to stab the diadem." Harry mimed stabbing with his hands and an imaginary fang.

"But it's Ravenclaw's lost diadem! Why on earth would I want to-"

"Just stab it!"

"Okay, okay!" Draco quickly punctured the diadem with the fang, and it let out a soft high-pitched screech and then fell silent. Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why did the-"

"Doesn't matter," Harry broke in, not wanting to be forced into a long explanation.

"But how-"

"Magic. Come on," Harry groaned, dragging Draco to the exit. "I want to get out of here before the demon doll decides to attack again."

Draco looked at Harry for a second before sighing and allowing himself to be pulled out the door. Harry recast his invisibility charm and followed Draco silently all the way back to his rooms.

**Author's Note: (1,2) Ha! A smiley sticker to anyone who gets the AVPM reference! Okay, I don't know if that's actually where the diadem was in the room, but, oh, well. Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: ****No Harry Potter propia. En todo. Que sea.**

Chapter 18-Really? Seriously? This Is Going to Happen?

"So," Draco said when they got there, "What are you going to do now?" _Please say leave; please say leave._ Let's just say that Draco had had enough Harry Potter for one day.

"What are you going to do now?" Harry shot back.

"I," Draco announced, "Have a DADA class to attend in ten minutes."

"Then," Harry said with a smirk, "I have a DADA class to attend in ten minutes."

"What? Why do you want to come to my class? Don't you have to go on doing whatever it is you're supposed to be doing that you won't tell me about in order to kill Voldemort? Or isn't there a puppy stuck in a tree somewhere that you need to go be a hero to?" **(1)**

"A Puppy in a…what?" Harry asked, confused. "Aren't cats usua–"

"Just. Answer. The. Question."

"Okay, okay," Harry nodded his head amiably. "I do, but I can't spend all my time trying to save the world; I need to have some fun sometimes too. Besides, if I left now, someone might notice the paintings acting weird. Plus, a good night's sleep would be nice. No offence, Draco, but you snore."

Draco ignored the bit about the paintings and skipped down to _good nights sleep _and_ you snore._ "Malfoys don't snore! And does that mean you're planning on staying the night? In my room? In my bed? Again!"

Harry frowned a little. "Yes, but if sharing a bed bothers you that much, then you can take the floor. Might let me sleep a little better too…snorer."

"I am not taking the floor, and I DO NOT SNORE!" Draco exclaimed, outraged. It's my room!"

"I'm the guest," Harry replied. "And it's the host's job to make sure the guest is comfortable."

"Not this guest," Draco muttered, letting it go for now, before checking the clock. "Crap, I've got two minutes to get to my class. Who knows what the little brats could get into unsupervised in my classroom?" Draco dashed around the room, grabbing his cloak and checking his reflection in the mirror before heading to the door.

"You Know Who knows," Harry commented. "And you've been spending way too much time with Snape; he's rubbing off on you. Next thing you know, you'll want to dye your hair black and stop washing it for a month."

"Are you coming or not?" Draco called from the door, ignoring Harry with a well-practiced ease. "And please say not!"

"I'm coming," Harry called back and quickly followed Draco out the door, casting another invisibility charm on the way. He was getting to be a pro at casting those. Draco broke into a run, but they were still late by a good few minutes. Panting slightly, Draco opened the door and walked in. Harry followed, only to find himself looking at…Lupin.

Seriously, who was up there that had a grudge against him? No, not a grudge; whoever it was absolutely _hated_ him. Harry hurried to follow Draco up to his desk, hoping that the many students' (were they third years) scents would mask his own.

Lupin paused in whatever it was he had been saying at the front of the class, turned and smiled warmly at Draco. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sorry for commandeering your class, but Professor McGonagall just dragged me over here saying you were late and that I needed to entertain the class until you got here. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Draco replied, moving over to shake Lupin's hand and getting a surprised look from the werewolf. "I'm sorry I was late, and thank you for watching my class. If you don't mind me asking, though, what are you doing here? You don't work here." Ah, Harry recognized feigned politeness when he saw it. Draco was obviously (to Harry. Remember; he's been living with dementors) just fishing for information.

Lupin's smile grew tight and a little forced but remained. "Well, I'm here staying with Sirius for a little while. He's substituting in for Hagrid as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher for a few days."

"That still doesn't explain exactly why you're here. Don't you live at Black's house or something?" **(2)**

"I, er," Lupin looked over at the class, which was completely engrossed in the conversation they were having, and back at Draco. "You see; Sirius and I had a bit of a…falling out with some of the other people who live with us. So, when Sirius came here, I came with him."

Draco just nodded his head, but Harry looked at Lupin in shock. He had come to _Hogwarts_ to avoid Dumbledore? Wait a minute; Harry had left them in Village #2, right? He had. Hmm, he'd call the Daily Prophet later. Hey, had Lupin and Black known that he would do something to keep the Order of Idiots…indisposed for a while? Is that why they'd thought it would be okay to come to Hogwarts even though Dumbledore was headmaster?

Harry broke out of his thoughts as Lupin turned to leave. But before he had gone far at all, Lupin brushed past Draco. He stopped for a second, nose twitching. Harry groaned silently. _'I hate that darned werewolf sense of smell!'_ Harry thought unhappily.

"Actually," Lupin said, looking like he was itching to give Draco a quick sniff over, earning an appalled look from Draco. "May I stay and watch you teach? I would love to see how you've grown and gotten better since I taught you."

Draco cast an unsure glance in Harry's direction but shrugged anyways. "Sure."

Harry pouted. (Though invisibly, of course; no one knew he was putting as he was invisible, but _he_ knew he was pouting.) Now how would he be able to terrorize Draco's class invisibly? And all he'd wanted was a day of fun. Maybe Trelawney was right, but instead of a dark spirit following Draco, it was following Harry.

The class had actually gone rather well. Draco was quite the teacher, and Harry had kept his mischief in check because Lupin was there. He had spent most of the lesson following Draco around, miming his gestures. Even if no one could see his antics, he was still walking around with Draco; and, considering how Lupin's nose had crinkled every time Draco (and consequently, Harry) had come by, Harry was probably reinforcing the idea that he had visited Draco recently, not that Harry was there.

The only part that might have tipped Lupin off to the fact that someone might be there was when Harry "accidentally" tripped one of the students as he was leaving. Hey, Harry had been going to move out of the way; but the kid had just sped out towards the door before he had the chance to. The kid had face-planted on the ground, and his momentum had sped him forward a few feet.

The most curious thing of all, though, was that the kid just picked himself back up before anyone could do anything and sped out the door at top speed, not even seeming to notice the blood dripping out of his nose. Harry strained to catch another dull thud that came from farther down the hallway and just stared, unsure of how to react to something so…odd.

Draco just shook his head like this was a daily thing. Huh, so Draco scared his kids almost as much as Snape did. (Have you ever seen Neville run so fast as when leaving the potions dungeon? Before he had seen it, Harry would have sworn that no human could run that fast and that Neville was actually some sort of magical creature in disguise.) It seemed Draco really was spending way too much time with Snape.

As soon as the last student was out the door, Lupin shut it and turned towards Draco. "When's you're next class?"

Draco checked his watch and said, "Not for a half hour."

"Good," Lupin said before walking up towards Draco, a serious expression on his face. "You have been with Harry. Recently." Draco cast a hopeless look towards where Harry was.

'_Very subtle, Draco, just look over right where I am.' He won't realize __**anything**__ at all,' _Harry thought wryly.

. "What makes you think that?"

"Don't crap with me," Lupin said, more harshly than Harry had ever heard him speak before. Honestly, he hadn't even thought crap was in Lupin's vocabulary.

'_Oh_,' Harry remembered, _'The full moon's tomorrow. No wonder he's acting like a hormonal teenage girl.'_

"Please," his tone became softer, pleading. "How recently?"

Draco looked unsure of what to do, so Harry nudged him slightly and whispered in his ear. "Go on. You might as well." Lupin seemed to twitch a little at the sound, and he looked around confusedly but eventually gave up trying to find where the noise had come from.

Draco looked over at Lupin in defeat. "Just this morning."

Lupin's eyes lit up. "And he was okay? He's not hurt or anything? He's alright?"

"He seemed fine when I saw him." Draco looked rather besieged. "Seemed rather chipper, too, if that matters to you."

Lupin let out a sigh of relief. "Good, he's alright. And he really seemed happy?"

Draco nodded. "Way too happy, if you ask me," he muttered bitterly under his breath. "Ow!" Draco yelped as Harry slapped him across the back of the head and looked around, glaring. Lupin just looked confused before dismissing it as a Malfoy Thing and turning to a more important subject.

Lupin smiled full force. "I'm so glad he's doing well. You don't know how much that means to me. I would say that if you see him again to tell him that Sirius and I are sorry, but I know our apologies are useless. I wouldn't blame him if he never forgave us, and I will never ask him to.

"But still, if you see him, please tell him that we love him and that we're rooting for him, whatever it is he's doing; and that we won't interfere with his life anymore unless he wants us to. We no longer have the right. Sirius and I were so stupid before, but we realize that now, and we're no longer going to follow Dumbledore blindly and let him hurt Harry again."

Lupin smiled again, looking slightly more at peace, despite the full moon being so soon. He let out a short laugh. "Sorry, I'm just going on and on. I've overstepped myself. Just tell Harry the first part, please?" He turned to leave and was almost out the door when Draco called out in confusion.

"Wait, you aren't going to ask what we were doing or where he went or anything?"

Lupin shook his head, a kind smile on his face. "No, didn't you hear what I just said? Sirius and I are done trying to force him to do anything. He doesn't deserve that, and trying to force him only hurts all of us. Besides, he deserves his privacy after all that's happened to him…after everything we've done to him. We'll wait for him to come to us because we don't deserve to go to him. And if he never comes, well, that's life; and we'll deserve it. We can only hope that he's safe and happy, wherever he is. And here I'm talking too much again. Good bye, Mr. Malfoy."

And he left.

Harry stood still for a few minutes. He felt warmth rise up in him, and he found himself…smiling, if only a little, at where Lupin had been. Maybe, maybe he didn't have to hate everyone from his old life. It seemed that some of them (two of them) were, at least, beginning to learn.

He certainly couldn't trust them right now, but maybe, eventually, if he let them prove themselves… Luna's words echoed in Harry's mind. Maybe he should trust his feelings. But…not yet. He just couldn't yet.

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" Draco felt around numbly, trying to find the invisible boy, unaware of Harry's inner turmoil. "Harry, Har–!"

_*Smack!*_

Harry yelped in pain as Draco's blindly seeking hands smacked into his nose. Hard. "Ah! Draco! What are you doing?"

"Oops, sorry Harry," Draco stepped back a tad sheepishly but smirking a bit too. "It's what you get for getting lost in your own thoughts and forcing poor little me to try and snap invisible you out of it. We _Malfoys_ are above that. Therefore, it's divine retribution."

"Gah," Harry said, taking off his invisibility charm, since the next class was still a good few minutes away, and kept his hand pressed up to his sore nose. "Draco, you're a pain."

"I'm a _Malfoy_."

"Malfoys are a pain. Ugh, my nose. It was like you were actually trying to smack me as hard as you could." Harry winced.

"…"

"You were; you were! You little–"

"Come one, you're the Boy-Who-Lived. Stop whining about a little smack on the nose," Draco taunted.

"My nose hurts! But not nearly as much as you're about to, "Harry said, outraged, stepping towards Draco threateningly.

"Are you bleeding, Harry?"

Harry tripped as he was moving forward to get in Draco's face at the sound of the soft, dreamy voice. He quickly tried to catch himself but only half succeeded and ended up landing with half of him on the floor and half of him clinging to a desk. Harry looked up at the young, bright-eyed woman, who gave him a hand up, and smiled weakly. "Hello, Luna."

"Are you alright?" Luna asked, inspecting Harry's slightly bruised nose curiously.

Harry laughed and gave her a one-armed hug. "I'm fine, not even bleeding or anything. I was just giving Draco a hard time."

Luna nodded her head sagely. "Yes, that's what it sounded like from the hallway; but I wanted to make sure."

"Wait," Harry said, "You could hear us form the hallway?"

Luna nodded again. "Oh, yes, you were quite loud. I hadn't even been planning on dropping by until I heard you. I thought you were having a contest to see who could be louder. Didn't you know how much noise you were making?"

"No, Luna, we didn't" Draco said tiredly, rubbing his forehead. "You had better hope not too many people heard us, Harry."

"Oh," Luna said helpfully, "Quite a lot of people have. There's a large crowd outside your classroom, Draco, and they all seemed rather enthralled with what you were saying when I walked up to them. None of them seemed too eager to come inside and hear your conversation better when I suggested it, though."

Harry groaned. There went his nice, relaxing day. "Thanks for telling us, Luna," he said with a small smile before turning to Draco. "I had better go," he sighed. "See you later, Draco; and remember about the lower level death eaters, kay?"

Draco nodded and began to shake Harry's hand formally before giving in and hugging Harry carefully. Harry laughed and hugged Draco back; it seems even Malfoys need hugs. He then turned to Luna, who gave him a quick peck on the lips and a hug. "Be careful, Harry, and don't let any more wrackspurts get in your head while I'm gone." Luna smiled benignly and stepped back.

Draco raised one eyebrow at Harry before shaking his head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Crazy and crazier…makes sense."

Harry and Luna just laughed. Harry didn't even bother putting his invisibility charm back on as he pulled his cloak over his head and walked with Luna out of the room, turning and saluting Draco before he was out the door. "I'll be back."

Draco just shook his head at another idiotic muggle reference and loudly continued his "conversation" with "Harry." Luna was right; there was a pretty big crowd of around fifteen students standing outside the classroom, whispering and eavesdropping. They didn't even give Luan a second glance as she and Harry walked out, though Harry got a few suspicious looks that quickly disappeared as the students focused back on the classroom. After all, there was no way Draco and Harry could _possibly_ know they were listening in.

Harry snickered as walked past, and Luna went the opposite way down the hallway, but not before leaning in to listen one last time, "Please do as I said before and be true to your feelings, Harry. It's important."

Harry looked at her confusedly, but Luna just skipped away down the hallway. Harry watched her retreating back for a while, subconsciously admiring the way her hair looked in the light coming from one of the windows as it swished back and force at the bouncy steps. Darn, now he was getting to be a sap. Draco must be rubbing off on him even more than he'd thought. (No matter what anyone said, Harry _knew_ that Draco was a closet romantic.)

Harry shook his head and quickly walked farther away from the gaggle of students before turning around suddenly and pulling his cloak around himself tighter. He just couldn't help himself. Harry pointed a finger and shouted in a fake voice that sounded a lot like Goyle for some reason, "Look, it's Harry Potter!"

Immediately, all heads swiveled over to where he was pointing, and a laughing Harry slipped away without anyone noticing again. Wizards could just be so stupid. Harry even watched as that one kid from before went speeding down the hallway again. He tripped over his own feet, falling hard on face…again. The kid just flushed bright red and took off down the hallway again. None of the other students even looked up from where they were trying to find Harry. Apparently, that really was a normal thing for that kid…wait, did this mean he was afraid of Harry?

Harry hadn't even met the kid, why was he being lumped in with Draco in the "people to run away" from category? That was mildly insulting. Laughing, Harry turned down the hallway, completely visible but wearing a cloak that hid his face, and walked past several students and even a couple of TEACHERS, who didn't question his right to be there. He even got a few, "Good afternoon"s and "How are you?"s, like he was there every day.

You'd think that security would be a bit better considering that fact that old Morty (Voldemort) was out there wreaking havoc upon a very suspecting public. Harry walked, and he walked; and he walked, cursing whoever it was that had decided to make Hogwarts so large. He was just turning the corner in a secluded hallway, just a mere few feet from his desired exit, when he ran into somebody.

"Gah!" Harry let out a whoosh of air as he and whoever this was collided. Harry landed on his butt, as did the man he'd collided with; and the man dropped the papers he'd been carrying.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man began before Harry cut him off, beginning to pick up the papers.

"Don't be. It's my fault. I should have been…" Harry looked up to hand the papers he'd been picking up to the man and stopped dead in his tracks. It was Sirius Black. Black froze too, face going pale; and Harry realized that his hood had fallen down in the collision.

They stared at each other, crouched on the ground, neither looking away, until Lupin's voice and the soft sound of shoes on stone caused Harry to jerk violently away. "Sirius did you run into _another_…H-Harry?" Lupin turned the corner and happened upon the scene.

This seemed to jerk Black out of his trance and caused him to jump back with a visible effort and take the papers hastily from Harry's hand, making sure not to touch him in the process. "Uh, er, sorry, H-Harry, we, we'll just leave you alone!" Black looked as if it was costing him a lot, but he waked quickly away from Harry, Lupin following.

Harry watched them leave in what was surely the wrong direction for where they were supposed to be going. They hadn't even asked him what he was doing in Hogwarts. _"Please do as I said and be honest with your feelings, Harry…"_ Harry remembered what Luna had last said to him.

"Eeeugggghhhh!" Harry whined form between gritted teeth, pacing back and forth a bit, debating harshly with himself. "NNGGHH!" Harry let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his head with the palms of his hands, frustrated. "I can't believe I'm about to do this," he growled, rubbing his eyes angrily.

Harry dashed down the hallway in the same direction that Lupin and Black had gone. He found them just a few hallways down, talking (surprise, surprise,) about him. Black was sitting on the floor, back up against the wall, talking to Lupin. Neither of them noticed as Harry approached then.

"––looked alright, Remus."

Lupin nodded. "Yeah, I spoke with the Malfoy boy earlier because he had Harry's scent on him; and he said that Harry was okay, but still…"

"It's good to know for sure."

"Yes," Lupin agreed. Black knocked his head up against the wall, looking up.

"When he saw me, Remus, he…he didn't look as…mad as he has in the past. Like he didn't hate me quite as much as he did. He just seemed…surprised to see us. Do you think he can ever forgive us? I wouldn't, and I doubt he will; but do you think he could?"

Lupin opened his mouth to reply when Harry felt a breeze from a nearby window blow in, going in the direction of Lupin and Black. Lupin's head snapped up, and his eyes widened. "Harry," he breathed.

Black nodded his head. "Yes, we're talking about Harry."

"No," Lupin gripped Black's shoulder tightly, causing Black to look up at Lupin. "It's Harry."

Black followed Lupin's gaze, and his eyes came to rest on Harry. They both stared, and Harry shifted from one foot to the other uncertainly. Gathering his courage, Harry walked forward briskly until he was just a couple of feet from his two former mentors. "I, er…thank you." Harry finally said bluntly, eyes on his feet.

Lupin and Black started in surprise. "W-what?" Black stammered. "Why are you thanking us? You hate us! We betrayed you! We hurt you! We don't even have the right to call ourselves your family anymore! We–"

"Stood up to Dumbledore for me," Harry said quietly, looking up at last. "Tried your hardest to respect my boundaries? …After an initial bout of utter stupidity, tried to help me? Treated me like a rational adult who did nothing wrong, but is cleaning up everyone else's messes anyways instead of a child who threw a fit and now needs to apologize, forgive, and clean up a mess that's his?" Harry's voice steadily grew in volume until he was practically shouting.

He stood, breath coming in harsh pants, staring blackly at a very surprised looking Lupin and Black. Harry felt pent up anger and frustration boil in him. Tears of rage built up behind his eyes, but Harry pushed them down and instead gave a bitter chuckle. "...Look at me; this stupid place is just bringing all my emotions out. Gah, I feel like a wuss. I can't wait to get out of here." Harry groaned. Something about Hogwarts seemed to make him emotionally unstable, and he had no idea why.

Black rose carefully, looking at Harry cautiously. "Ha–" Lupin nudged Black forcefully and gave him a loaded look. Black hastily, but unhappily, amended himself. "Mr. Potter, what do you mean? Are you saying…?"

"I'll hear you out," Harry said, stiffly, still full of inner turmoil and unpleasant emotions to the point where he was no longer sure who he was mad at, who he hated, who he tolerated, and who he liked. Part of him wanted nothing more than to run headfirst into his once-godfather's tight embrace, to forget himself and just act like a kid, ignorant to all the pain and hurt he'd faced and would face, for once.

Another part of him wanted nothing more than to run away, to hide, to curl up into a ball and wait for the world to just leave him alone. But yet still another part of him wanted to stand up to the world, say _screw you, you did this to yourself_, and go do whatever the heck it was he wanted and never look back.

Instead, Harry steeled his nerves and followed a dazed looking Black and somewhat hopeful Lupin into an empty class room where no one could overhear them. Trapped in close proximity with two people he wanted nothing more than to get away from had Harry practically hyperventilating, his senses going haywire, making him feel like he'd jump at any sudden noise or movement. His breath came out in hurried gasps, and his eyes were wide and his face ashen.

Horrible memories flashed by in his mind: His first encounter with Voldemort; the basilisk; Cedric; Voldemort returning; the shapeless forms and masks of the death eaters surrounding him, jeering and mocking; the way every one he'd known or loved had flinched away from him, even before he was accused; the trial; being escorted to Azkaban; the countless murders and deaths caused by Voldemort that he had been forced to see in excruciating detail; his parents' deaths over and over and over again; Voldemort laughing loudly as he tortured innocent people; the feelings of helplessness, anger, betrayal, hurt, loneliness, doubt, shame, suspicion, of being misled, kept in the dark, and so many more.

He was only one human; how could he possibly deal with all of this rationally? That's the point; he couldn't. He couldn't handle all that pain, and back with the dementors, he didn't have to. Here, he did. At that moment, Harry longed only to be back at Azkaban and as far away from confronting his past as possible.

Lupin and Black looked at Harry, concerned, but sat down quietly in some empty seats while Harry began pacing around the room. Desperately, he tried to calm himself. He shouldn't be acting this way; he was more mature than this, old enough that he shouldn't let his emotions control him. _'You've been to Azkaban. You faced Voldemort more times than you care to remember. These are just two men. There's no reason to be–'_ Harry stopped suddenly.

_Afraid_

He was afraid. Harry realized this with sudden clarity. He was afraid of letting these two back in, afraid of getting hurt, betrayed again. Harry let out a bitter laugh, causing Lupin and Black to jump. Apparently, he was still just that lonely little kid under the stairs at heart. He wasn't afraid of what they could do to him physically, (yeah, right) but what they could do to him emotionally.

The very thought of letting them back in again terrified Harry to his very core. If he let them in, if he took off this carefully constructed mask of pain and hate and apathy, what was there to stop them from hurting him again? Besides, they didn't deserve to be let in, Harry suddenly remembered. He was still angry with them, still hated them, at least in part. Why should he let them in? Why should he trust them? Which conflicted part of himself should he listen to? He felt like he was at war within himself. Gah! He was only twenty years old; he shouldn't have to deal with this.

Finally, "Why should I trust you?" Harry looked up suddenly, staring at Lupin and Black intently.

Black and Lupin seemed completely taken aback. Black looked at Harry and said bluntly, "You shouldn't. There's no logical reason for why you should. We've already betrayed you once." Harry raised and eyebrow despite himself, and Lupin looked at Black incredulously.

"And that will make me trust you how?"

Black continued, undeterred. "We can't _make_ you trust us. Harry, I know we've hurt you so much; and we've done it more than once, indirectly and directly. We've hurt you so badly, and I can't tell you how much I regret that. I will not stop being sorry, and I will never forgive myself. But if you're trying to find a logical reason to trust us…you won't. In fact, if you use logic, it'll tell you that you shouldn't trust anyone because everyone can and will hurt you sometime in your lifetime.

I can't promise you that neither Remus nor I will ever hurt you again; it's going to happen. But that's life. I can, however, promise you that I will try my very best not to hurt you and to keep you safe. Harry, I know that you hate me; and you have every right to. I know that I've tried to cut you out of my life, but Harry…despite everything I've said or done, I love you. I've always loved you, even from the first moment you were born.

Even when you were in Azkaban, and I thought you were the worst scum on the face of the earth, I loved you. No matter how many times I tried to stop, tried to say that you weren't my godson – I even told you that! – tried to tell myself that I hated you, but I couldn't. I just…couldn't. I love you, Harry James Potter, and even if you no longer consider me family, you're still _my_ godson. …And that's why you should trust me."

Harry stared at Black, as did Lupin. Black had a haunted look in his eyes, and his face was all but pleading with Harry for understanding. Harry numbly walked towards the door, unable to process this information at the moment, and unsure of what to say or do. Black started to get up and keep him from just leaving, but Lupin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a quick shake of the head.

They (well, mostly Black, but what more could Lupin have said after that monologue?) had tried their best to try and explain things, and now they needed to let Harry think things over. It was all up to him now. Just before Harry stepped through the door, he suddenly turned around to look at the two men who had once been the closest things to family that Harry had, had.

Harry sighed before giving the barest of smiles. "I…I understand." The two men looked up in surprise and hope. "I still don't forgive you, but…I don't hate you, at least not as much as did before. I still don't like you, though, and I can't trust you. Maybe later I could, when it's only my life that's in danger of getting hurt, but right now, a lot of people are depending on me and who I trust. I can't risk innocent lives like that."

Black and Lupin nodded their heads in mutual but disappointed understanding. Harry let a small smirk compromise his face. "But…" Harry wandlessly conjured up a piece of paper and a quill and quickly wrote something down on the paper. "This is where I'm staying. If you're ever going to get my trust or forgiveness, you're going to have to prove that I can trust you and that I should forgive you. But you can't do that unless I give you a chance. Here's your chance."

Harry tossed the note to Black, who hastily grabbed it, looking at Harry gratefully. "Thank you, Ha–" Lupin elbowed him again. "Mr. Potter." Determination shined in Black's eyes. "I _will_ prove that you can trust me. You just wait and see; I'll be a better godfather this time than you could ever believe."

Lupin nodded. "Thank you for giving us a chance, H–Mr. Potter."

Harry gave a wan smile. "I'm not entirely sure you're welcome." He turned towards the door again and was about to leave when he looked back again. "Sirius, Remus," he nodded in the direction of each of them. "Drop by sometime. Oh…and you can call me Harry." And with this, Harry pulled the hood of his cloak back over his head and walked into the silent hallway.

Sirius and Remus just sat there for a few seconds before Sirius jumped up and shouted, "YES!" He let out a loud, whooping cheer before pulling Remus up into a wild hug. "We have a chance! We can fix this!" was his muffled shout into Remus' shoulder. Sirius began laughing hysterically, and slowly, his laughter turned to muffled sobs.

Remus smiled knowingly, tears in his own eyes, before wrapping his arms around his best friend. Maybe they could finally fix what they'd broken so badly so long ago. Remus carefully took the paper form his gently shaking friend and held it up. On it were three scribbled sentences.

_The Order Headquarters. Come see me sometime, though I might not be there when you come. Just talk to Kreacher. _

Remus blinked slowly before collapsing against Sirius in helpless laughter. He laughed until his ribs hurt and tears flowed down his face freely. Remus hadn't laughed this much in years.

**Author's Note: (1) Muggle sayings confuse Draco.**

**(2) I think I forgot to mention this, but Sirius was cleared after the DoM fiasco. **

**Okay, okay, I know a lot of you are going to hate me for this chapter. Well, first of all, I just can't see Harry never forgiving them. It's just not in his personality. **

**Second, he hasn't actually forgiven them yet. He's given them the chance to prove that they deserve to be forgiven. Face it, if he didn't give them a chance, he would never have the opportunity to forgive them and have it not be completely sudden, random, or out of character. **

_**Day 1: I hate you! Day 2: I still hate you. Day 3: I love you and forgive you! Hugs for everyone!**_

…**Yeah, not gonna work for me. Plus, it's easier for Harry to torture them when they're near him. And there's still going to be revenge, just not as horrible revenge for Sirius and Remus as it would have been before. Besides, if Harry doesn't forgive anyone, Voldemort still wins. And don't worry; I don't think he'll forgive anyone else in this story.**

**And I hope it wasn't too long winded or corny, too. I was trying really hard, but I was having a hard time trying to communicate their feelings in the way that I felt was right without going on for page after page after page or sounding like a hallmark card. Plus I hope that I didn't make Harry too OOC, because I feel like even he has his breaking point; and this was it. I didn't want to make him sound like a wimp, though, either. Let me know what you thought of it, though, please, so I can make it better later on. (After I'm done with this story, I'm planning to go back over it and fix small grammar mistakes, plotholes, bad-ish scenes, etc.)**

** Okay, one more thing before this ridiculously long author's note is done. (I'm amazed you've stuck with me this far. I would have just clicked out by now.) If any of you have any good ideas for revenge for any character, (though no killing or anything) I would really appreciate it. But nothing too horrible for Sirius or Remus, though. I have some stuff planned for them already. But for everyone else, I need the help pretty badly; I have no idea what the rest of revenge is going to be, and I'm not good at all at being completely cold, cruel, and horrible to people.**

**Thanks for reading! (And suffering through the author's note of doom.)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Non ho proprio Harry Potter.**

Chapter 19-And Stuff Happens

Harry walked away groaning. He couldn't help but feel that he had just made a huge mistake. But whether this was at the fact that he hadn't just forgiven them and tried to become a family again (however stupid that may sound) or that he'd given them a chance, let hem in, stopped hating them just as much, and returned to neutral ground with them, he did not know. Well, okay, not really neutral at all; but he wasn't going to try to destroy them or leave them to get themselves killed by Voldemort anytime soon or anything.

'_Ugh! Stupid conflicting emotions!'_ Harry moaned unhappily to himself. Why was he acting like some hormonal teenage girl?

Harry tried to shake off his feelings and walked through the nearby front door. On his way out, he paused and, in a rare fit of anger, used wandless magic to set a small trap for Dumbledore the next time he came through that door. Oh, it wouldn't do too much, just douse the man in spaghetti sauce, (Harry was beginning to feel a bit hungry) but it made Harry feel better. As a second thought, Harry set another small trap to drench the rest of the Order members who might come through this building with a cat-attracting pheromone. Have fun with that, McGonagall…and whatever Order member it was that might come into contact with her when she was in her animagus form.

Feeling a bit better having had his fun, Harry hurried down to the gate and quickly slipped through. As soon as he was outside, he began to feel even better. But then, like that annoying older brother/sister who just won't leave you alone for some reason and keeps throwing erasers at you,**(1)** the feeling of having made a grave mistake returned.

Harry once more began questioning his judgment in telling Sirius and Remus where he was currently living. No, he did not think that they would betray him, or, at least, not intentionally. But Harry had no doubt in his mind that if Dumbledore thought Sirius and Remus had any idea where he was, the man would do whatever he could to get the information from them. Harry could almost feel sorry for them, but he wasn't really. Dumbledore wouldn't kill them or anything; he was a _light_ wizard after all.

The rumbling of his stomach broke through Harry's thoughts, startling him into laughter. Harry reached inside his pocket to try to find a small snack when his finger grazed cool metal. Frowning, Harry reached inside and pulled out Slytherin's locket, realizing that he had completely forgotten about it up until this point. He fingered the ice cold metal and shivered; he could practically feel the evil swirling around inside of it.

Harry reached inside his other pocket and pulled out the fang. Immediately, the locket began sending him visions of wealth, persuasive images of anything he could ever desire; but Harry ignored these. The feelings changed to ones of hate, spite, promising to curse Harry into oblivion if he didn't put the fang away or, better yet, destroy it. Harry ignored the locket and stabbed it with the fang, causing it to shriek once before falling silent.

Harry placed the locket back in his pocket **(2**) to give to Kreacher later on as proof that it had been destroyed. Harry wondered what the diadem must have said to Draco…man! Draco must really trust Harry if he'd done what Harry had said even after listening to the diadem. Harry began to think idly, as he stood there.

'_You know, a horcrux is actually really pretty stupid once you think about it. Yeah, you get to live forever if you make one, but that's only if no one destroys it before you die. You just hack off a piece of your soul and place it in an inanimate object that can't move or fight back and can easily be destroyed once a person has the right tools. Sure, it can try to send you mind waves to try to get you to not destroy them; but if someone were really determined, he could destroy the horcrux no problem.' _

Harry shook himself from his musings, looked at his watch, and saw that it was only four in the afternoon. Maybe he could have a little fun yet today. Grinning, Harry turned on his heel and apparated away.

When Harry turned around, he was at none other than Hogsmeade village. Harry was struck, once again, by the glaringly bad job wizards did at naming things. Looking around, Harry saw that several of the shops had closed. There was only one new shop in the town, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. It seemed they had expanded from Diagon Alley. Harry smirked and walked into the shop, which, despite it being a week day and during school hours, was rather crowded.

Harry caught sight of a few parents who were either trying to find ways to prevent future pranks or, if the ever growing looks of delight and mischief on a few of their faces were anything to go by, encourage them. Harry even thought he may have seen a couple of students. Harry cast a charm to keep his hood from being removed, so that it could not be taken down by anyone but him; with the twins around, you could never be too careful.

Harry's suspicions proved true when a small model airplane zoomed out of nowhere past his head, catching on the hood and trying to pull it off. Harry reached up and captured the still-moving plane. He watched as Fred and George Weasley trotted over, one of them holding the remote control. They both had dark looks on their faces and glanced at each other suspiciously before plastering on fake grins as they approached Harry.

Harry had no idea which one was which, so he mentally decided to call refer to them by their clothes as purple jacket and red jacket. It would be much less confusing that way. "Sorry, mate," purple jacket, who Harry thought may have been Fred, laughed, not sounding sorry or happy or like he thought it was funny at all to Harry's trained ears. "Our airplane just got a little outta control there. It's a new project we're working on. I hope you're alright."

Harry had to admit, the twins were really quite the actors; but Harry knew better than to think they were happy to see him. After living for three years with dementors, some of whom rarely showed any kind of emotion at all, Harry had learned how to read faces like a pro poker player. He had no trouble telling that the Weasleys were lying. They _had_ meant for the plane to hit him, or, at least, for it to hit his hood and reveal who he was.

Harry could read the distrust lying just under their jovial smiles. He sighed; these days, anyone wearing a hood was considered either death eater a dark wizard. According to Juan, at one point, it had just been fashion to wear the hood up. Then, some dark wizard had gone around killing people while wearing his hood up; and ever since then, witches and wizards who wore hoods were generally considered dark. And now, what with Voldemort being out and about, they were usually considered death eaters.

Harry looked up and kept a blank mask on his face, clearing away all emotions, and spoke with a Bulgarian accent, pretending to be baffled by the toy plane. "What ees dis…toy you ave made?"

Harry barely held in a snort of sardonic laughter as he watched the twins' underlying emotions darken even further while their outward faces didn't change. They Weasleys really were prejudiced; weren't they? Just because you seemed to be Bulgarian or something like that didn't mean you were a death eater. (Or Bulgarian, for that matter.)

"It's a muggle toy," red jacket explained. "Muggles fly around in the bigger versions, and they made these for fun. We thought some of the younger kids or muggle fanatics would enjoy them."

"Hmm…how…interesting," Harry nodded, acting nonchalantly bored. He thought he may have seen George's eye twitch. Or was that Fred?

Either way, the other one seemed to see it too because he jumped in. "Would you like to purchase it?"

Harry shook his head mock sadly. "No. I vas actually thinking of getting vone of your cases of darkness powder."

This time, the twins didn't even try to cover the hard looks that came over their faces. "No."

Harry raised an eyebrow, though he doubted they could see that from under the hood. "You vould deny a customer his right to purchase your merchandise?"

"Only if we didn't know if said customer was a death eater or not," purple jacket said coldly.

Harry chuckled sardonically. "Den you vant me to show you my arm?" They both nodded.

Harry sighed loudly, as if this was the most laborious task ever to be asked to do but pulled back his sleeve to reveal his right arm anyways. The twins set about inspecting it, to make sure he wasn't covering it up with some strange Bulgarian magic or the simple magic that was muggle makeup. Eventually, the two pulled back, sure the mark wasn't there, but far from satisfied with the fact that Harry seemed not to be a death eater.

Harry huffed indignantly while he pulled his sleeve back down and remarked, "You realize vat just because somevon does not haff a mark does not mean they are not death eaters. Vat is a very inefficient way of doing things. Or vey could just have the mark somevere else on their body."

Red jacket's eyes narrowed. "Then you admit that you could be a death eater."

Harry nodded amicably. "I very vell could be, but vould a death eater point vat out to you?"

Red jacket immediately replied, though a bit more hesitantly than before. "Not unless he was just doing that to reinforce the idea teat he was not a death eater."

"True," Harry said, "But how vany death eaters are smart enough to do vis? Besides, you haff no proof vat I am a death eater. Therefore, you haff no veason to refuse me the right to shop here."

"How about because we just don't like you? It's our shop, after all," purple jacked asked.

It was Harry's turn to glare coldly. "Ven vat vould be discrimination. I vould be forced to go to your ministry to complain and ven later to my own authorities."

They had a sort of glaring contest for a few moments before the twins just turned and walked away, proceeding to ignore Harry completely. Harry smirked. He turned to leave the shop, but before he left, he turned back. He walked over to one of the students there and whispered in his ear. The kid looked up in surprise but started nodding his head fervently at the look Harry gave him. Harry smiled in satisfaction and walked out.

As soon as he was gone, the twins rushed over to the kid. "What did he say?" they asked in unison.

The boy looked up, frightened, and stammered, "He wanted me to tell you that he was, and I quote, 'Adding racists to his list of things the Weasleys are, right up there with having bad table manners and being traitors who abandon those who considered them family.' And then he whispered something else I didn't catch."

"What was it?" the twins demanded, getting a bad feeling as the gears turned in their heads.

The kid looked like he was going to wet himself, but he answered dutifully. "J-just something that had to with a Moon, Prongs, a foot, and a tail."

"You mean Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs?"

"Yes, that's it. How did you–?"

The poor kid didn't even get to finish his question, as the two let go out of him roughly in shock. He then promptly ran out the door of the shop. The twins looked at each other, and one word came out of their mouths. "Harry."

The two tried to make a break for the door Harry'd left through when, suddenly, the fireworks on their shelves that could only be activated by magic went off. Every single one of them. They yelped and tried to deactivate them with an override spell, but for some reason, it didn't work. Meanwhile, walking down the street form Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Harry heard the cracks and booms coming from behind him and smiled.

Harry looked up from his glass of Butterbeer at the Hogshead and at the clock. He was barely able to see the numbers from all the grime and dirt covering the ancient clock. Harry was glad that the bar keeper kept a clock, no matter how ancient or dirty, as most of the inhabitants of Hogsmead, while able to use technology, chose not to. Harry finally spied the time and cursed under his breath.

It was still only six 'o clock. Harry was bored, and, while he didn't want to go back up to Hogwarts or go home, he also did not want to stay here getting drunk for the rest of the night. (Not that butterbeer would get you drunk, but you get the idea.) Ugh. Harry got up and moved outside, feeling the suspicious glares from people in the bar that he'd gotten as soon as he'd walked in follow him out.

Harry sighed as he turned on the spot and apparated. He supposed he should wonder why he'd even tried to take a day for himself. Oh, well, time to go back to work. Harry staggered a little as he arrived outside Gringotts bank. He hated apparating. Harry cast an invisibility spell the dementors had taught him on himself and waited for someone to come open the door.

A young woman walked inside, and Harry followed her in. He then walked straight past the desks and security and into the dark caves where they ran the carts. When he got there, Harry reached out with his mind and magic to try and feel out which direction the horcrux was in. He felt several dark objects in the surrounding vaults, but one stood out among them. It reeked (metaphorically, of course) of dark magic and death. Harry gave a grim smile; he'd found his horcrux.

Harry took a right turn and set off to find the vault the horcrux was in. He was halfway towards where the deep aching absence of light that was the horcrux was when he heard the rumbling of an oncoming cart. Harry barely had time to jump back before a cart came hurtling down on the track, right where he'd been just seconds before. Was that…Bellatrix Lestrange? Harry felt a deep-rooted hatred rise up in him at the sight of her face; he'd seen her do too many horrible things when he'd had his connection to Voldemort.

Oh, well, Harry pushed his anger away; he was here to destroy the horcrux, not fight her. Harry climbed back up onto the tracks and began walking again. A little while latter, he stepped right through what seemed to be a waterfall. He could feel the water, which he was sure was charmed try to wash away his own invisibility charm and fail. Harry nearly gave a laugh; goblin or wizard magic didn't work well against dementor magic.

**Dementors**: 12 million and 3.

**World**: 0.

Harry walked through and cast a drying charm on himself before he even had the chance to get chilled in the cold tunnel. And he just kept walking. Another little while later, he passed a dragon, which he carefully skirted around. Finally, a long time later from when he'd started walking, Harry reached the vault. He was surprised to find it open. A shiver of anger went up Harry's spine as he heard Bellatrix Lestrange's voice float out form the open vault.

"…And 200 sickles, Missy. We must have enough for the Dark Lord's task."

"Yes, Mistress Bellatrix," Harry heard a house elf squeak and then the shuffling of felt and finally the clinking sound of coins falling on top of each other.

"That's too much!" Harry heard Bellatrix yell. He heard the dull thud of something living being kicked and heard what he assumed was a house elf squeal in pain. Coins clacked and clinked loudly as Harry assumed the house elf dropped the bag holding the money. Bellatrix's voice rose an octave. "You clumsy oaf! You dropped the bag! How dare you sully the money to be used for the Dark Lord's means!"

Harry heard another thud and a sharp cry of pain. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Finally, he had had enough. Harry couldn't stand by while this, this _murderer_ bullied the poor house elf. He strode into the open vault, head held high and magic ready for use. He stupefied the disgusted-looking goblin who was guarding the cart and watching Bellatrix as if he wished for nothing more than to leave her there to die.

Harry watched as Bellatrix kicked the house elf again before he could stop her and felt disgusted. But what was the most sickening part of all was that the elf was still smiling up at Bellatrix, apologizing profusely and trying to bow while its master repeatedly kicked it. Harry ran forward and pulled Bellatrix back so that she couldn't hurt the house elf again.

"What the–?" She turned and tried to grab at Harry, but he quickly knocked her out with a wave of magic. He then tied her up using a rope he conjured. Harry took off the invisibility spell, pulled down his hood, and turned to the frightened house elf, who cowered in the corner on the floor, near a pile of gold. It had blood on its face from where Bellatrix had obviously kicked it, and Harry thought its nose might have been broken.

He walked forward cautiously, as if approaching a frightened animal. The house elf just stared up at him with wide, scared eyes. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. (It seemed Draco kept a spare one in all of his clothes.) The house elf jumped but stayed still as Harry carefully reached out his hand and healed the broken nose with a crack. He then took the cloth and dabbed away at the blood left on the creature's face.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Did she hurt you badly anywhere else? Anymore broken bones?"

The elf stared up at him for a moment, lower lip trembling, before bursting into tears. "Sir talks to Missy like she is another wizard. Sir doesn't even know Missy, but he asks how she is. Sir even stops Mistress Bellatrix from punishing Missy! Oh, but Missy is a bad, bad girl; Missy deserves punishment. Missy dropped Mistress Bellatrix's bag; Missy doesn't deserve Sir's kindness! Sir should revive Mistress and let her continue punishing Missy."

Harry slowly absorbed the words streaming out of the elf's mouth. When he did, he felt sick to his stomach. Bellatrix had been beating this elf for something Bellatrix had done, yet the elf–Missy, excuse him–still believed it was all her fault. Had he been like this once too? Blaming everything that went wrong on himself? With new resolve, Harry turned away from Missy and back to Bellatrix and spoke quietly.

"You're right, Missy. I should revive Bellatrix." Harry heard the elf sigh in relief behind him. He woke Bellatrix up with a tap of his hand to her forehead. Upon waking, she immediately began struggling against the magical ropes binding her, and a stream of profanities and insults flowed out of her mouth.

"Enough," Harry said over her, voice commanding enough that she shut up for a few seconds. "I don't care what you think of me, my family, my pet dog,–and I don't have one, by the way, so that insult is useless–my friends, my ex-family and friends, how I was born, or whatever side I'm on. I woke you for one thing; I want Missy."

Bellatrix let out a hysterical bout of laughter, and Missy squeaked in some unknown emotion. "The _house elf_?" She laughed again before saying, eyes glinting manically. "I had no idea there were people out there who leaned that way. I'm sure you have lots of fun with your––!"

Harry reached forward and slapped her with a loud crack, eyes flashing. Her head turned sharply to the side, and Harry could see a large bruise already coloring her cheek. She glared up at Harry and spit at his feet. "Don't. Play. With. Me." Harry glared coldly at the insane woman before him. Just the sight of her filled him up with rage, and he remembered seeing her kill and maim and torture, laughing hysterically while she did so.

Harry heard the treasures in the vault begin to click and clatter as they began to rise up, responding to his anger and magic, and he quickly brought himself under control before he accidentally beamed the woman with a coin before she could give him Missy. Besides, he wouldn't stoop to her level. Harry leaned forward and ground out calmly, "Bellatrix Lestrange, if you don't give that house elf to me, I swear I will find what your master has hidden here in your vault; and I _will_ destroy it."

Immediately, the crazed woman's face went pale white and panicked. She looked up at Harry, and, for the first time, her eyes held fear, but not for herself, for her master's plans. She stared up at him again, gauging his seriousness. "If I let you have the elf…you won't destroy what the Dark Lord has entrusted me with?" Harry nodded his head. Bellatrix snapped her eyes over to Missy, who looked scared out of her wits. "I, Bellatrix Lestrange, give you, Missy the house elf, to this Potter. I am no longer your master; he is."

Missy let out a small squeak and fell to the ground as her bond with her master was severed and retied to Harry. Harry winced as she convulsed in pain and then fell still before turning back to Bellatrix. He was sure she knew some way to make it less painful to rearrange the house elf's bond and had still made it hurt in some sadistic last try to harm the elf. Harry pressed his lips into a hard line and kept his face blank.

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cup to destroy."

"What!" Bellatrix fought against her restraints again. "But you swore you–"

"I lied." Bellatrix looked at Harry with outrage, and he pretended to take it as disbelief. "No, really, I did." Harry sighed in exasperation that was only partially faked. "You people all seem to think that just because I'm Harry Potter, I can't lie." Harry's voice hardened. "I'm not the same person I was back then. Now, I'm not afraid to lie, cheat, or steal; and the wizarding world made me this way. They–"

Harry cut himself off mid-monologue. Venting to _her_ would have no use. Instead, he reached forward and knocked her out again, despite her violent protests. He then turned to Missy, who was now on her knees, bowing so low her forehead touched the floor. "Please…don't" Harry's voice was full of pain as he walked over and carefully picked up the house elf off the ground and put her on her feet.

"Master," she said, eyes wide in amazement. "Master helped Missy. Missy will serve Master gratefully for the rest of Missy's life."

Harry blinked; apparently, house elves change loyalties fast. "Missy…" Harry began, unsure of what to say. "First of all, my name's Harry. Please try and just call me Harry." At the elf's expression, Harry was prompted to add, "Or Master Harry, whichever you want. Second, I want you to know that no matter how angry I get or what you do, I will never hurt you."

Harry watched in horror as Missy's big eyes filled up with tears of what he assumed what happiness, and she launched herself forward to hug his leg. Apparently, she was taking the whole "whatever you do" thing seriously. "Oh, Master Harry!" she sobbed. "Sir is too kind. Missy will serve Master Harry faithfully!"

"Er, yeah," Harry patted the elf's back awkwardly. "Now, uh, listen. I'm going to take you back to where I'm living right now, but there are a few more things you need to know. First of all, my home is my…god father's house, but he and I had a bit of a, uh, falling out, so he doesn't know I'm living there still. Keep that in mind and please don't let anyone see you unless they're in my rooms, or you have my permission." No need to confuse the house elf with ex-god father and things like that; better to keep it simple.

Harry continued. "Also, I'm gunna be away a lot. So you'll just have to keep house and stuff. Oh! And do you have a problem working with another house elf?" Missy shook her head excitedly. "Good, 'cause Kreacher, my other house elf, that is, is there, so you can just follow what he says. And remember that just because he hates everyone else in the house does not mean you have to. Now, I don't really have time to go home with you, so can you…figure your way there?"

Missy nodded her head again, eyes still wet. "Sir is so kind. Most masters wouldn't explain or worry about their house elves. House elves automatically know where the master's houses are; Missy will be fine."

"Okay, then," Harry paused awkwardly. "So…see you later."

Missy nodded happily and apparated away. Harry just stared at the spot where the house elf had been. Maybe Kreacher and Dobby were actually normal for house elves. Or Harry had just picked up another odd ball. Or Kreacher and Dobby could be insane and Missy was normal. …Harry sincerely hoped it was just his luck causing him to pick up the few insane ones in the bunch. Then he remembered the Hogwarts house elves and wasn't so sure. Oh, well, thoughts for another, less busy time.

Harry turned to the vault and groaned openly as he looked around at the mounds and mounds of unorganized treasure and gold. Didn't anyone ever clean up here? No, wait, if the wizards tried to get the goblins to clean anything, they'd probably just start another war. But still…Harry groaned again. This was almost as bad as the room of requirement.

Harry may have been able to sense where the horcrux's general area was, but then he'd had a rough idea of where it was; and he couldn't tell it apart form all the other dark magic in this vault. Harry shivered; he'd be okay just as long as there were no more demon, drag-queen Ken dolls. Suddenly, Harry glimpsed a flash of a badger out of his peripheral vision. He turned and found himself staring right at the horcrux.

Harry looked back over at Bellatrix; had she been getting this out to take to Voldemort? Harry felt conflicted. He was happy to be scaring Voldemort enough for him to go look for his horcruxs, but how it would probably be harder to destroy Naginii. Darnit! More work for Harry. Maybe he could just make Draco do it…nah. With his luck, Draco would probably just turn out to be allergic to snakes or something.

Harry shook himself out of his lazy thoughts and turned his attention to the cup. Harry pulled the fang out of his locket and un-shrunk it. He felt the cup weakly try to persuade him not to and laughed once more at how stupid Tom was to leave parts of his soul in inanimate objects before he stabbed the thing. It let out a thin, girl-like wail as the soul inside the cup was destroyed. Hmm…maybe Voldemort was really just a very, very ugly girl. Was that why he was so bitter? It would make sense. Harry tried to think back to any certain time of the month when Voldy seemed to kill/torture more people than usual. Was Voldemort just…PMSing? It was a possibility, Harry mused. Harry moved away from that rather disturbing train of thought and turned on one foot, apparating.

Harry blinked and stared at the sight that greeted his eyes when he arrived at his room at Number 12 Grimlaund Place. He watched in shock as Kreacher moved around the room efficiently, cooking and cleaning and explaining things out loud. That wasn't what stopped Harry in his tracks; no, no, it was Missy, who was traveling behind Kreacher worshipfully, wonder and amazement in her eyes, like some star-struck little group, that stopped Harry. Well, that and that Kreacher was wearing and apron. She was even taking notes, hanging onto Kreacher's every word.

Kreacher himself looked extremely pleased and sure of himself. He looked up from explaining the toaster to Missy, who was listening with rapt attention, and saw Harry. Abruptly, he turned and bowed deeply to Harry, Missy following excitedly in suit. "Master Harry, welcome back!" the elf said happily. "I have been introducing Missy to the way things run here." Missy nodded her head enthusiastically in agreement.

Harry just stared for a few seconds. Had Kreacher just used a pronoun? What was the world coming to? "Er, good job, Kreacher. So, she knows all about my…relationship with the rest of the people in this house?"

Kreacher nodded his head before a serious look overcame his face. "Sir, about the scum inhabiting our Noble House of Black…I fear that your presence here has been discovered."

Harry blinked. Why did he feel like he'd forgotten something, or maybe several somethings? "Really, why?"

"Well, Kreacher was that blood traitor and the werewolf trying to get into the room. They were banging on the door and trying to enter in earnest. They only stopped when some of the other idiots in this house came and asked what they were doing. They even tried getting Kreacher to let them in, but Kreacher refused. They finally left Kreacher alone, but they swore they would come back up later when no one else is home. They said that sir gave them permission to come, but Kreacher told those liars to leave and that Kreacher knew nothing."

Oh, that's it. He forgot to tell Kreacher about them. Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before a thought occurred to him. Wait, this was the perfect chance for revenge. He _was_ still angry with them, after all. "Actually, Kreacher, I did give them permission to come see me." The elf gave him a withering look, but Harry went on. "You see; it seems that Sirius has had a change of heart."

"A…change of heart?" Kreacher sounded unsure of whether he should be disgusted or joyed at this. Harry nodded his head.

"Yes, a change of heart. He had finally seen the error in abandoning the Great and Noble House of Black and wished to truly be reconciled. I met him while I was out, and he begged me for my permission as one acting for Master Regulus to truly become a member of the House of Black once more. I told him to come visit me here later so that he could apologize, and I'm sad to say that I forgot to inform you. Oh, and he and Remus want to pledge to become my slaves for life. I honestly have no idea why, but they do."

The elf began to look hopeful. "Apologize?"

"Yes, Kreacher, apologize. He begged me, pleaded with me for the opportunity to apologize to you and to his mother. He simply felt he did not have the right without my permission."

Kreacher looked stunned, and Harry hide a snicker. Slowly, a smile that Harry thought was supposed to be happy but came off as creepy overcame the house elf's face. "Finally, the Noble House of Black will continue! Kreacher had feared that it would fade away, but he never spoke of it, now did Kreacher? But now, the white sheep of the Black family wishes to return and apologize! And apologize, he must. Oh, all the poor grey hairs on Kreacher's Mistress' head caused by that traitorous boy, but she will forgive him, no doubt. After he has been properly punished for leaving our great house in the first place, of course, but oh! We will go on!" Kreacher crowed excitedly before lapsing into quiet mumblings and silent tears of absolute joy.

"Yes, Kreacher, yes. But he needs to be able to apologize without interruption. Could you possibly create some sort of distraction to get everyone but Sirius and Remus out of the house?"

Kreacher looked up at Harry, sniffling silently. What was with house elves and crying, anyways? "The werewolf, too?"

"Yes, he, er, sympathizes with the House of Black and wishes to apologize also for…being so inferior to all members of the House of Black. They both also wish to pledge their loyalty to me, as I said before, as my helpers (slaves) until I no longer need or want them to be."

Kreacher nodded his head and walked stiffly towards the door, motioning for Missy to stay there. "Kreacher will clear out the scum."

"Inconspicuously, please, Kreacher." Suddenly, a thought dawned on Harry. "Hey, I never told anyone about the Order of Idiots being trapped in that village. How'd they get out? Did my spell wear off?"

Kreacher shook his head. "No, it seems that some Order member who had not been involved in trying to capture you saw the note and saved them."

"Darn."

"They were quite upset when they returned, though," Kreacher hurried to assure Harry. "They even went so far as to call Sir a traitor! Hypocritical little…" The elf trailed off, mumbling to himself.

Harry shrugged. "Let them. As far as I'm concerned, the more upset they are the better. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "Feel free to do whatever you want to make them miserable as long as they don't know it's you, and you don't kill them."

Kreacher let out a short little cackle before nodding to Harry and apparating away.

'_There goes one happy house elf,'_ Harry thought before flopping onto his bed for a quick nap to wait for Kreacher to return, most likely with the mutt and the werewolf in tow and leaving a wave of decimated Order members in his wake. Personally, Harry was amazed that Kreacher had taken Sirius coming back over so well; but, then again, he probably wanted the House of Black to continue with a blood heir, even so much as to accept Sirius, whom the elf hated with a passion, back. Besides, who understood house elves anyways?

**Author's Note: (1) This did not actually happen to me, but to my sister. My brother kept annoying her while she was on the computer over the summer by throwing erasers at her and clicking out of whatever it was she had up whenever she left the computer alone for a few seconds. I am not ashamed to admit that I helped quite a bit. But then again, you probably don't care about that. **

**(2) Ha! I rhymed. By accident, too.**

**I am so sorry it has been so long since I last updated, but school, tennis, physical training, Church retreats, and life in general have really hit me hard. I will try not to go so long before I update next, though. But I do have Midterms coming up before Christmas, so I make no promises for farther into the future. Thanks so much to all the people who reviewed; I always appreciate it.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: Own Harry Potter, do I not. (Yoda style!)**

Chapter 20-Seriously? Now?

Harry woke up to the sound of Kreacher dragging Sirius and Remus into his room via apparation. The elf had a tight grip on both their wrists, and Sirius was eyeing Kreacher's hand on his wrist like the elf had leprosy. The image of complete and utter disgust brought two very different feelings up in Harry; anger at Sirius treating another creature **(1)** like that, at him displaying the same prejudiced attitude that had lead to Harry being imprisoned, and joy at what a huge blow this was going to be to Sirius' pride.

Honestly, if his ego wasn't taken down a notch, Harry would never be able to forgive him. It wasn't enough for them to be sorry; they had to change. The only reason Harry was even giving them this chance was because they'd acted like they wanted to change, but if they showed that they couldn't or wouldn't change, that the prejudices and mannerisms ingrained into them by the wizarding world were irremovable…well, Harry would hesitate to kick them out and forget about them completely. He wouldn't expect them to do a complete 180 immediately, though, but some things needed to change now.

An irate-looking Kreacher pulled the two forward, causing them to look over towards Harry. Harry internally flinched as both of the men's faces lit up visibly at the sight of him. Kreacher looked at the two he was gripping with loathsome disgust, all joy gone from his wizened face and replaced with blatant dislike. "Kreacher brought the traitor and the werewolf, but they refused to come with Kreacher at first. They do not seem to remember the conversation Sir had with them."

"What conversation?" Sirius exploded, wrenching himself out of the elf's iron clad grip. "I never said I would apologize to you or that barmy old bat!"

Kreacher looked livid and probably would have cheerfully beaten Sirius to death with a blunt kitchen spoon had the man not been his master. Harry just raised an eyebrow at the two. "Really? It's ok, Sirius, Remus," The two looked positively ecstatic at hearing Harry speak their names. "You can ask me for my permission to apologize to both Kreacher and your mother now, just liker you begged me for the chance to do the last time we met. Sirius, don't you remember how excited you were when I told you that you could ask me later?"

Harry stared intently at the man who had once been his godfather, an intense look in his eyes that said, _'go along with what I'm saying before I lose my temper and murder you.'_ It took a few moments, but Sirius finally seemed to gulp, and he looked down at Kreacher with poorly masked horror and dislike. "Oh…I can…?"

Kreacher seemed not to notice how fake that answer was, (though Harry did, as was noted by his glare) and he squeaked in gleeful anticipation before turning to Remus. "And he refused to remember his apology as well."

"What apology?" Remus asked, genuinely confused. When had he ever wronged anyone in the Black household?

"For diverting one of their own away their great way of living and helping him to become a disgrace, of course. Oh, and for being so helplessly inferior to all members of the Black family," Harry said a matter of factly.

Remus looked taken aback, most probably at being called inferior. Harry glared at him as well until Remus, who got the hint far sooner than Sirius had, looked up and yelped, "Oh, of course, thank you."

Harry smiled sinisterly at the two, not hiding his amusement at (or involvement in) their predicament. The two, however, just seemed glad that Harry was smiling at them at all. Harry ignored this and proclaimed grandly, "You may now ask me for my permission for you to apologize."

Remus and Sirius just stared at him for a second, trying to tell if he was being serious or not, and Kreacher glanced between the two expectantly. Harry joined Kreacher in staring at the two. He wasn't going to make this easy on them, even if it was just a small revenge. Remus and Sirius sighed in acceptance, seeming to realize that they were in for a lifetime of these revenges. Harry smirked; they had no idea.

Sirius and Remus looked directly at Harry and said, rather solemnly, actually, "Harry Potter, we ask you for your permission to apologize to Kreacher and the portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius' mother." **(2)**

Harry looked at them, regally declared, "Granted!" and looked at them expectantly again and then at Kreacher.

"Oh, um," Sirius mumbled reluctantly before Remus elbowed him into moving forward towards Kreacher. Missy just watched, eyes wide in awe, as if this living soap opera was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.

Sirius swallowed thickly before saying, a constipated look on his face, "Kreacher… I'm s-sorry for the… way I've treated you." Harry's gaze pierced him, causing Sirius to go on. "And I've… had a rearrangement inside of my soul. I have realized my past wrongs in turning away from our fair house. I have wronged you, and it was…wrong. And for that, I ask your forgiveness."

Sirius' dramatic flair won out from his disgust at the words he was speaking, and he finished bowed on one knee in front of Kreacher. Harry supposed his inborn marauder instincts for lying had just automatically kicked in. Harry was sure Sirius wouldn't have been able to sound even as mildly sincere as he had, had it not. In response, Kreacher's eyes welled up with tears, and he barely refrained from launching himself at Sirius, beaming with joy.

Harry wondered why for a second, when it seemed as if the elf would like nothing more than to tackle Sirius, when he realized. Kreacher was most likely waiting for Walburga's permission and for Sirius to be welcomed back into the Black family by her. Sirius, in turn, looked down at Kreacher a little disturbed, but with just a little hate, as no one could really hate a creature that was looking at him with such hope, loyalty, and devotion.

Harry smiled, both a Kreacher's happiness and Sirius' great discomfort before turning to look pointedly at Remus. Remus started a bit at being focused on but turned to Kreacher immediately. "Kreacher, I apologize for helping Sirius to become corrupted and stray from the House of Black."

He looked over at Harry, who motioned for him to go on, which he did, albeit a little hesitantly. "And also, I apologize for being so inferior to all in the Noble House of Black and for being a dirty, dirty werewolf." Lupin looked as if he was ready to burst out laughing at this point, and Harry's eyes narrowed.

It seemed that revenge would be in order, later on. However, at least most of Lupin's apology sounded more believable than Sirius' had. Kreacher nodded his head slightly in Remus' direction, a smile still on his face.

"Kreacher," Harry asked. "Can you go make a distraction so that these two can apologize to the Mistress Black now?"

Kreacher nodded his head, when a thought seemed to occur to the elf. "Kreacher would be happy to, Sir, but… don't Master Sirius and the werewolf need to promise their loyalty as your slaves now?"

"Oh, err," Harry had forgotten about that. He supposed he had just gotten carried away, but now, _slaves_ sounded harsh.

"You said they wanted to pledge to be your slaves until you no longer need/want them to be," Kreacher continued, not seeing Harry's situation.

Harry was torn; he had no idea what to do. He may still greatly dislike (possibly still hate) the two, but he didn't want to take away their freedom. They'd being even more caged in than he had, and Harry wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even Voldemort. No one deserved to live without their freedom. Maybe he could get out of making them swear a wizard's oath and just make them promise; they wouldn't be bound for life by a promise, especially if he let them out of it later.

Harry looked over at Sirius and saw that the man's face seemed to light up, as if he had an idea. Harry watched as Sirius looked over at Remus, and Remus, being able to tell what Sirius was thinking form years of experience, nodded, a smile transforming his face. They both stepped forward and grabbed Harry's wrists, one hand on each. They nodded at Kreacher who immediately smiled and began the spell.

"Wait, wha, sto–" Harry struggled to try and break away, but the two men's grips on his wrists were too strong.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other one last time before staring straight at Harry, intoning simultaneously, "I, Sirius Black, and I, Remus Lupin, hereby swear to be Harry Potter's slaves until he no longer needs or wants us to be." Harry felt the magic pass through them and bit back an indignant yell. It was too late; now they were bound to him.

Kreacher clapped his hands excitedly before disappearing to do who knows what to the Order. Missy followed, presumably to go clean or learn from Kreacher or something. Harry stood on one foot, gathering himself, before twirling around to glare at Sirius and Remus. They both flinched, but the large smiles on their faces remained. Harry found that he had no words for this.

He didn't even know whether he should feel angry that they would do something like this for him or happy that _they would do something like this for him_. He also felt anger at not even being consulted in this well up. Harry opened and closed his mouth several times before the words finally came out of his mouth. "You, you realize that you've just made yourselves my slaves, right?"

"Yep," Sirius nodded his head amicably, a goofy grin still on his face. Remus frowned, a little bit more attuned to Harry's dilemma.

Harry's panic was growing. He was now responsible for these two men; they had to do whatever Harry said and possibly follow him around. Harry had wanted to give them a chance, but he hadn't wanted to have to spend every waking moment with the two! Harry ignored his anger at not being consulted and focused on the problem at hand.

"You realize this means you have to follow me around and do whatever I say, right?" Harry ran his hands through his hair, close to his breaking point.

"As long as we can be with you, Harry, that's all that matters," Remus said softly, trying to put it in a way that would keep Harry form getting more riled up than he already was.

Needless to say, it didn't work.

Harry groaned out loud, turned to the nearest stone wall, and began hitting his head against it. What was he supposed to say to that? These two men had given up their freedom for him, for crying out loud! Harry thunked his head against the wall harder.

Sirius and Remus rushed forward, concerned for his physical safety and his mental sanity, both before his slaughtering of millions of brain cells by hitting his head against a wall and after, but they both restrained themselves from toughing him, as if not sure they had the right.

Wait a minute. Harry paused in his banging of his head, much to Sirius' and Remus' obvious relief. They had sworn to be his slaves as long as he needed or _wanted_ them.

His idea must have shown on his face because Remus immediately said, "It was if you need or want us, Harry. The oath will only break when you no longer need us to be you slaves and no longer want us to be your slaves."

With a start, Harry realized he was right. And, quite frankly, Harry needed them to be his slaves (harsh word) right then because he needed them to do everything he said. Besides, he even wanted them to be his slaves a little bit; now, he could boss the around, and he could keep them with him so that they could prove themselves to him without actually endangering any innocents because they would have to keep his secrets and do what he said.

But still, slaves, twenty-four-seven. …Ugh. Harry resumed banging his head on the wall, much to Sirius and Remus' displeasure. They both leaned forward, catching the words, "Stupid werewolf…stupid ex-godfather…stupid oath….stupid Kreacher for bringing it up…stupid me for saying it…stupid conflicting emotions!" between each thud.

Harry probably would have continued this way for some time had it not been for Kreacher popping back in, immediately drawing Harry's attention to the elf rather than the wall. Harry pulled away form the stone he'd been hitting his head on, rather dizzily, and walked over to Kreacher, causing Sirius and Remus to relax in open relief again. Harry ignored them, seeming to decide it was the best policy for the moment.

"Did you get rid of the Order, Kreacher?"

Kreacher nodded happily. "Yes, Master Harry, the house is free of vermin, and they can apologize to the Mistress now."

"How'd you get rid of them?" Harry asked curiously.

Kreacher didn't meet Harry's eyes. "Let's just say that when they get back later, they won't be getting any _dessert_ with their dinner."

"…" Harry looked over at Sirius. "He's your house elf; did he just make a joke?"

Sirius shrugged. "I have no idea. And he likes you better, anyways."

They both looked over at Kreacher, who was looking worried now. "Kreacher, can you explain that, please?" Harry asked carefully.

Kreacher's ears were drooping more and more by the second, but the house elf answered dutifully. "Well, you see, Master, Kreacher sent them all to the _desert_. And even with Dumbledore, it will take them a few hours to get back thanks to Kreacher's magic."

Harry blinked before turning his head to look at Sirius. "He made a pun," Harry said, voice full of something akin to a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

Sirius, however, merely looked confused as heck. "He did… Do house elfs even have a sense of humor? I've never heard one crack a joke before, let alone a pun. And this is Kreacher…"

"Apparently, they can and will," Harry said, eyebrows raised, before turning back to look at Kreacher, who was practically in tears at this point.

"Kreacher is so sorry, Master Harry! Kreacher did not know that he was not allowed to use humor. Kreacher won't do it again; please punish Kreacher for being such a bad elf, Master!"

Harry started in surprise as Kreacher burst into tears and bowed down in front of Harry, as if expecting a beating. "No, no, Kreacher," Harry hastily amended. "I was only surprised. You can use humor; I want you to be able to do or say anything around me and be completely honest. In fact, I'd love it if you'd make jokes… it's _punny_."

Harry winced as soon as the last sentence came out of his mouth; he'd just gotten carried away trying to calm the sobbing elf. Man, first the slave thing, and now this lame pun… Harry really needed to learn how to put a filter on his mouth. Harry heard Remus and Sirius behind him burst into muffled snickers, and his eyes narrowed again.

Kreacher stopped bowing, and his tears stopped flowing as he looked at Harry, a peculiar expression on his face. "Thank you, Master Harry, but if what you said is true, then Kreacher has to say… that was not funny, Sir. Not at all."

Harry felt his jaw drop as he stared at Kreacher. Behind him, he heard Sirius and Remus laugh uproariously, no longer trying to hide their amusement. Harry just stood there for a few minutes, trying to comprehend the fact that he'd just been dissed by a house elf - one he owned, no less!

Finally, a laughing Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder, jolting Harry out of his disbelief. Remus tried to ignore the fact that Harry had flinched when he'd touched him. Harry just waved for Kreacher to go on ahead downstairs and began walking down the stairs himself. Sirius' mirth at Harry's situation immediately turned to despair.

Harry felt a small flash of sympathy – first apologizing to Kreacher and now his mum, who he hated even more than Kreacher – but it disappeared as fast as it had come. The man deserved every minute of it, after all. Harry and company came to a stop at the portrait of Walburga Black, whose curtains Kreacher had already opened, and was sitting there regally, (or as regally as she possibly could, being a painting and all) preening.

At the sight of her son, her eyes narrowed in distaste, but she said nothing and instead nodded her head to Harry. "Kreacher has explained your situation to me. I thank you, young Master Potter, for carrying out my son's last task and for giving my other whelp of a son a second chance to better himself, and the werewolf as well. Not many would."

Strange, but Harry found himself liking her quite a bit. Maybe it was the way that Sirius had spent no less that two seconds with her and already looked ready to explode. Mrs. Black continued, this time looking at Sirius and Remus.

"You may apologize now."

Remus just looked a bit taken aback, as he had never had a civil conversation with Sirius' mum before. Sirius, however, had, and he looked like he was this close to turning around and not looking back. Harry merely gave him a pointed look, which caused the man to sigh and turn towards his mother's painting again. Huh, so maybe the slave thing wasn't so bad. (For Harry, at least.)

Sirius kept his eyes anywhere but his mum's as he started his painful task of apologizing to someone he absolutely hated. Harry couldn't help the small smile that overcame his face.

"I…apologize, _Mother_." Harry poked the man sharply with his wand, prodding him to go further. "I am sorry for the dishonor I have brought to the House of Black and for my inane actions in trying to break away form this…proud house."

*Poke*

Sirius flinched and continued, spitting the words out of his mouth like they were poison. "I also apologize for my rudeness and childish actions and insults directed towards you."

Sirius' mum surveyed him haughtily before nodding her head slightly. "Very well, then, as you are the only blood-Black left, I will accept your apology."

Kreacher burst into tears again at his Mistress' graciousness. It suddenly occurred to Harry that house elfs really do cry a lot. Then, randomly, the thought of how you punish a house elf came to mind. Harry knew that all house elfs enjoyed doing chores, and that even quite a few of them probably enjoyed being punished, as it was their master's will, and house elfs love doing their master's will. So what do you do, tell them they can't clean for a week? That didn't seem like much of a punishment to Harry.

Harry was broken out of his sporadic musings by Mrs. Black's harsh voice. "Enough, Kreacher. Sirius Orion Black, we will speak of your punishment in a few moments time. But first, it's the werewolf's turn to apologize." She turned her disdainful eyes to Remus, who flinched at being brought, once again, into a conversation suddenly. That seemed to happen to him a lot.

Sirius, while bristling at the "punishment" comment, stepped back, vaguely feeling and repressing the urge to throw up. Remus stepped forward hesitantly and bowed to Mrs. Black, whose eye's widened slightly in surprise and held the barest hint of approval.

"Mistress Black, I, Remus Lupin, formally apologize for my actions in helping Sirius Black down a path, away from the House of Black." Remus felt Harry's wand poke into his back and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So Harry wanted him to continue with that. Meanwhile, Harry was grinning sadistically. "I also apologize for being so hideously inferior to the House of Black."

Mrs. Black waved a hand dismissively. "Do not mind that; you cannot help how inferior you are."

Remus prepared to step back when he felt Harry's wand poking at him again. "What else should I apologize for?" he burst out angrily before realizing where he was. Sirius stiffened, as did Kreacher, but Harry and Mrs. Black both looked at each other and smirked. Wait a second, was that… amusement shining in the crazy old witch's eyes?

"Perhaps for your shabby attire?" she asked tonelessly, a small smirk still playing on her face. Harry stifled a chuckle; he was really starting to like this lady. However, the mirth left Walburga's eyes, and she spoke regally again. "Like I said before, Kreacher has explained your situation to me. Harry, do you realize that you are now officially the heir to the House of Black and all of its properties?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No, I didn't."

"My foolish son made you his heir sometime before he betrayed you, and, as you had turned 16 before he denounced you, you are still his heir. It is a law upheld in the older pureblood families that was used to keep a sense of order between the often feuding family members; this law is the only reason my son inherited the Black fortune."

Sirius seemed to flinch at his mother's reference to him and looked at Harry, as if unsure of what to say to this. Harry just raised his eyebrow. "He made me his heir? And when did he denounce me? Not that I wouldn't be happy with it, but you'd think I'd have gotten a notice or something."

Sirius flinched again and motioned frantically for his mother not to say anything more, but she ignored him. "Yes," she nodded, "he made you his heir not long before he betrayed you. And later, at you're trial, he verbally denounced you, and doing so, even if just verbally, makes it official in the wizarding world."

Harry blinked. "So that means we're no longer legally related in a way?"

Sirius's mum shook her head. "No, both of you would have to agree for you to be fully cut off – as it was, he would only have made you not be his heir, had you not been 16, of course. You never voiced that you agreed; therefore, you are still legally related." She sniffed haughtily. "This law was made to keep pureblood families from… getting rid of unwanted squibs or the such."

"So if I wanted to, I could denounce Sirius and legally no longer be his godson?" Harry inquired.

Both Sirius and Remus flinched at this question, though Sirius more so than Remus. Walburga turned her sharp eyes towards her prodigal son and then back towards Harry again. "Yes, but I would not advise it. As I said several times before, Kreacher told me of what has happened. I am fully aware of my son and the werewolf's positions as your slaves.

"Even though you are now my son's legal master, you are not yet, by another long series of laws designed to keep unruly purebloods in line, master over the House of Black. By this, I advise you, politically at least, not to denounce my son. Besides," she gave Harry a wry smile. "I've always wanted a grandson."

Harry looked up Walburga for a few moments before giving her a thin smile of his own. By this point, Sirius just looked terrified and obviously had no idea what was going on. "And what better grandson than Harry Potter," Harry said slyly.

Walburga's smile grew larger. "Exactly," she purred, proud that her relative, legally at least, could be so cunning.

Harry felt his smile grow larger in return. Then, sensing that both she and Sirius needed confirmation that he would not be denouncing the Black family, Harry continued. "Very well, then, _grandmother_. Do you have any pureblood, political advice for me at the moment?" She would now want some way of involving herself in his life, Harry knew. Probably some sort unspoken pureblood rule.

Walburga smiled at Harry as if he had just done something really pleasing. She glanced over at her son, and her smile grew even larger and took on a feral edge. "I trust you to take care of yourself and my Noble House, but I do have one piece of advice for you. As my son and the werewolf have become your slaves, I would advise you to place your claim on them."

At Harry's extremely confused look, (and Sirius' increasingly pale face) she continued. "It is customary in pureblood families to place a claim of sorts on their slaves so that everyone knows whose slaves they are. It would be no different now, than collaring a dog so that it can be returned if it is lost."

Harry thought on this for a while before that last sentence stood out at him. Harry felt a smirk overcome his face, and he turned towards a scared-looking Sirius and Remus. The two flinched unintentionally as Harry raised his hand and both looked away in anticipation of being, well, branded or something of that nature.

Harry's smirk grew bigger as placed newly transfigured dog collars onto each of the men's necks. **(3)** They both looked down, surprise evident on their faces. They'd been expecting Harry to do something horrible to punish them for betraying him. Harry frowned and narrowed his eyes while the two men inspected their collars.

Walburga smiled approvingly at Harry. "They should wear them as long as they are your slaves. You know… I have never seen collared slaves before; usually, they're just branded. This is much less messy; I approve."

Harry watched as Sirius and Remus shared guilty looks at her words, and he just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't' take it that they would even have thought that he would have branded them. That was just… wrong, evil. Did they really think Harry was capable of something as horrible as that?

Standing up suddenly, Harry caused Remus and Sirius to flinch. He looked around before saying stiffly, "Thank you for your advice, Mistress Black. But I have to go now; I have… things to take care of." Harry turned to leave, and Sirius and Remus moved to stop him. Harry turned around with a glare. "Stay here until I get back."

"B-but," Sirius said weakly, still not completely sure why Harry was so upset.

"Stay." Harry glared before apparating away. Maybe the mutt couldn't learn to change… or he was just that stupid. Either way, Harry needed to go calm down and what better way than to go out and plan the destruction of another horcrux?

Meanwhile, Remus was glaring at Sirius, angry with both his friend and himself; Sirius was beginning to look stricken as he realized just what'd he'd done; and Walburga just shook her head.

"I always knew you were both idiots."

Sirius and Remus just looked down. 

**A/N: (1) Ha! Pun! I'm just really into puns lately for some reason.**

**(2) I looked it up; that is his mother's name.**

**(3) Thanks to Slytherin66 for the dog collar idea. **

**I'm really sorry it has been so long since I have updated. I have…no excuse. Except maybe that typing must have been invented by someone really, really, evil and that Biology teachers should give less homework.**

**I feel like Remus is hardly ever called by his real name in this; it's always just "the werewolf." Oh, well. And lots more stuff, betrayals, and intrigue comes up in the next chapter, which I will try to get up in a reasonable time span. That may not be for a while, though. I have 6 exams coming up before Christmas, so… studying, yeah. **

**Oh, and sorry if this is a little rough; my sister couldn't beta for me, and I wanted to get it out, so…yeah. Don't forget to press the little button down below! (Review!)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: Do we really need to go over this again? *Sigh* Fine, ****I do not own Harry Potter. Get it? Got it? Good.**

Chapter 21-

The Order stood, milling around the empty Great Hall at Hogwarts, waiting for Dumbledore to speak. It was the late afternoon so the children were off in their dormitories, and classes were over. The members talked quietly amongst themselves, unsure of why Dumbledore was holding an emergency meeting in Hogwarts, not the Order headquarters.

After a while, a pensive Dumbledore finally looked up from the head table he had been staring at in contemplation. The Order sat down in seats around him while he cleared his mind and throat. To the members who remembered what he was like at his greatest, the man they had come to trust with everything to, now looked old and washed out, pale in comparison, and tired to the bone.

And yet, when he looked at them, Dumbledore's eyes held the same fire they'd had so many years ago; and he spoke, voice soft and sad but full of fierce determination. "I know you all will be wondering why we are meeting here, and some of you may even be wondering why Sirius and Remus are not here. It is simple. I believe that it is unsafe for us to continue holding meetings at Grimlaund Place until we find Harry.

"Now, as you all know, we were, a mere few hours ago, somehow sent to Saudi Arabia. I believe that Harry may have gotten Kreacher to come to his side and to expel us from the house for a few hours so that he could walk about freely.

Ron Weasley immediately stood up, nearly knocking over Granger, causing her to glare at him reproachfully. "Then why aren't we going back to the house, to capture that traitor?"

"Because, Ronald," Granger cut in, still looking at him angrily. "He would already have left by now, and Kreacher would just listen in on our meetings for him. Besides, he's not the traitor…"

She looked down at her hands, eyes saddened. "While what you say is mostly true, Miss Granger, Harry had indeed betrayed us, the Order, by not joining with us. Even more so after what happened in the village." Mumbles of angry agreement sounded from the Order members.

"But he hasn't joined Voldemort, and maybe we could –" she weakly protested.

"No, Miss Granger," Dumbledore responded, eyes cold as ice. "He has still not joined with us, which makes him a traitor, through and through. We need to find him as soon as possible, find out what he knows, and force him to join us if we have to. We have to do this to save the innocents. Do you want to save lives, Miss Granger?"

Granger paused before looking up and nodding, all indecision gone. "But wait," Tonks called out. "Why _aren't_ Sirius and Remus here?"

Dumbledore's gaze grew sad. "I fear that Sirius and Remus have joined Harry." Gasps resounded across the room.

"How do you know that?" Molly Weasley, ever the busy body, demanded.

"They were not expelled form the house like the rest of us. And they refused to help us capture Harry. While I have no proof, I believe that they have been contacting Harry."

"But you don't know for sure," Tonks said in a measured tone, her small crush on Remus not yet gone.

Dumbledore nodded. "True, I am not sure. This is where we need to find out for sure if they have been contacting Harry. If they are, then we need them to tell us Harry's location. We won't hesitate to use any means necessary to find out this crucial information."

"So we aren't going to do what Harry told us? You saw how angry he was." Bill Weasley spoke up, obviously still remembering the village fiasco. Now it was his turn to fall under Dumbledore's cold stare.

"No, Harry betrayed us; and he doesn't know what is best for him." Another obscure Order member opened his mouth, probably to ask another question; but Dumbledore cut him off. "Enough. Just know that all of this is for the greater good."

Many of the members looked up, shocked by Dumbledore's defensive tone, but said nothing. The Order had lost several members these past few days alone, all of them newer, only recently joined. Everyone noticed how reserved the twins seemed that day, and even Granger, who never talked back, had questioned Dumbledore!

Dumbledore was feeling panicked; he had to regain control before his carefully constructed Order crumbled. "Now," Dumbledore calmed himself, regaining his genial mask, causing most of the Order to sigh in relief, while several still looked suspicious. "We need to find out what Sirius and Remus know."

"How?" Tonks asked, still fearful for Remus.

Dumbledore smiled, and his eyes twinkled deceptively. "I am so glad you asked, Nymphadora…"

**MICCELANEOUSobjects MICCELANEOUSobjects **

Harry stormed through the gates of Hogwarts, stopping only long enough to pull his hood up before continuing on angrily, muttering incoherently the entire time. "Stupid werewolf… stupid mutt… stupid Voldemort… stupid horcruxes… stupid life!"

Harry opened the door with a slam, startling several students hanging out near there to jump before striding down the hallway towards the DADA room purposefully, a dark cloud following him the entire way. Students and teachers alike scrambled to get out of his way because of the glares directed at anyone near enough to see him. Harry reached the defense classroom and stood in front of it for a few seconds, scowl firmly in place.

He knew that he shouldn't be _this_ angry; a little angry, sure; but this was a little exaggerated. Harry had just been hoping against all better judgment that Sirius and Remus would have completely changed the way they viewed him overnight. He couldn't really blame them; now could he? Still, Harry couldn't help the flush of anger that went through him at the fact that they'd thought he would brand them. Surely he didn't come off as that horrible, right?

Now thoroughly working himself into a bad mood, Harry tried to shake out of his thoughts as he swung open the door… only to find himself looking at the kid with the backpack, now to be referred to as BK. **(1)** BK, of course, didn't notice Harry was there at first; he was standing a few feet away from a dummy, not unlike the ones Harry had used in the DA, trying (and failing) to cast an _expelliarmus_.

Harry was rather amused to find that the kid was still wearing his backpack for some reason. With BK's attention focused solely on the other side of the room, Harry was free to inspect him without abandon.

'_Hmm… Considering the spell, maybe BK's a third year? Awfully short for a third year, though. But then again, what do I know? Besides, kids seem to be getting shorter and shorter every year; now everything's being downsized… even them!'_

Harry shook himself from his musings as he watched BK get ready to try the spell again. He really needed this kid to go find Draco for him. "Yo, BK!" Well, Harry had never been one for tact.

The poor kid violently jumped into the air, accidentally raising his wand as he did so, an unbidden "_Expelliarmus_!" escaping his lips simply from the fact that he'd been saying the words over and over for the past half hour. Both Harry and BK watched as the wand flew out of the dummy's hand, BK in awe and Harry in amusement.

"Yes!" BK pumped his fist in the air, nearly falling over because of the weight of his backpack, and turned to Harry, not seeing who he was in his excitement, a huge smile gracing his lips. "I finally did it! I finally… did… it." Suddenly, who he was talking to seemed to sink in; and BK made a mad dash for the door, momentarily forgetting that Harry was blocking it.

Unfortunately for BK, he never made it as far as the door, as he promptly tripped over his own robes slightly; and his top-heavy backpack did the rest of the work for him, pulling him down to the ground in a crumpled heap. Harry blinked. Was he really that scary?

Harry walked over to the kid, who was struggling in vain to try to disentangle his backpack from where it had gotten caught on one of the desks that had been pushed over to the wall. Harry sighed and knelt down next to BK, who immediately froze and eyed Harry warily, as if afraid that he might attack. Harry found himself beginning to feel mildly irritated at the kid. Was he _really_ that scary?

Keeping his voice calm, Harry took a deep breath and said, "Listen, kid. Running away whenever you see someone who looks the least bit threatening is never a good game plan for several reasons. For one thing, running away might insult said threatening person and make them feel the need to hurt you." Okay, so that was a little harsh, but Harry was in a bad mood; and the kid needed to learn. He felt a little remorse wash over him, though, as BK whimpered pitifully.

"Second of all, running away is highly less effective when you trip and fall after five feet. Third of all… said threatening person might make you do something for him." Harry watched BK's face pale even more. Hmm… maybe he was a third year if he was thinking things like what Harry thought he was thinking.

"No, nothing like that. Look, if I help you up, will you go find Draco – er, Professor Malfoy- and bring him here to me?" It was a bit of a risk considering BK could just run away and not find Draco for Harry, but from how frightened BK seemed to be of Harry, it was doubtful. The kid probably thought Harry would _know_ if he didn't go find Draco and would hunt him down.

BK nodded his head fervently, as if he wanted nothing more than to be on the other side of the castle already, which he probably did. "Ok, then," Harry pulled the kid up and had barely gotten him on his feet before BK took off. Harry watched as he ran as fast as he could and, feeling gracious, called out, "And remember what I said about running!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry heard a loud clang and a dull thud. Shaking his head, Harry shrugged before sitting down to wait. He had warned the kid, after all.

**MICCELANEOUSobjects MICCELANEOUSobjects **

"Don't touch that!"

Harry flinched and nearly dropped the object he had been fingering. He turned around and found that he was actually happy to see the angry blonde standing in the door. "But, Draco, I was bored!" Harry exclaimed with a small smile. "And angsting."

It was true; with no BK to entertain him, Harry's thoughts had quickly turned, once more, to Sirius and Remus. Harry had then spent the time waiting for Draco steadily getting more and more depressed and angry.

Draco shrugged. "You've been angsty since the day you were born, and you're quite often bored. But that doesn't give you an excuse to break my things."

"Hey, I didn't break anything," Harry defended.

"Yet." Draco smirked.

"Well, if you hadn't taken so long getting up here-," Harry began but was cut off as Draco spoke, looking mildly disgruntled.

"Yeah, well, that wasn't my fault. Dumbledore was having some sort of meeting in the Great Hall, and a bunch of students were hanging around the door, trying to find out what it was about. Of course, Nearly Headless Nick insisted that because I was a teacher, I should be the one to break them up. He's _you're_ ghost, so don't get in a twist about me making you wait." Draco sounded extremely irritated by this mumbled under his breath about being "reduced to taking orders from idiotic Gryffindor ghosts."

'_Hmm, Dumbledore's having a meeting? May I should… nah.'_

Harry sauntered over to a chair and sat down, stretching out comfortably. He didn't need to waste his time and go see what Dumbledore was doing. He was going to be out of Grimlaund Place pretty soon, and whatever it was Dumbledore was scheming at the moment wouldn't really matter too much in the long run. Besides, Harry really didn't want to have to go deal with that.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Planning to stay for a while, are you?"

Harry just tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I just need to cool off for a little while."

Draco walked over to his desk and pulled out a pile of papers before proceeding to sit down and begin to grade them. "Is there an actual reason you decided to come here, or was Black just getting on your nerves that much?" he asked without looking up.

Harry shrugged, nearly tipping out of his chair at the motion. "Well, yeah, he was doing more than just ticking me off; but I do have a reason for coming here. I need you to kill Nagini."

Draco stopped in the middle of giving some Hufflepuff's paper a D to stare at Harry. "Why do I have to kill the gigantic snake? You're the one with experience at killing giant, deadly reptiles. You do it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Killing one basilisk does not make me an expert on the art of snake murder. Plus, you have access to her. With Voldemort knowing I'm trying to kill his horcruxes, he'll keep her well within the castle. And aren't Slytherins supposed to love snakes? Are you telling me you're afraid?"

Draco sighed. "We respect snakes, not love them. And I happen to respect a huge poisonous snake enough not to try and kill it."

"But…?" Harry said hopefully.

Draco sighed again. "But I'll do it. Theo's on snake feeding duty, so I'll just make him let me do it. I'll tell everyone that he owes me a favor, so I asked for the honor of feeding the Dark Lord's snake."

"And they'll really buy that?"

Draco laughed. "No, that's just what I'll tell Bellatrix. I'll tell everyone else I lost a bet to Theo."

Harry looked at Draco curiously. "How's the whole lower-level death eater thing going, by the way?"

Draco returned to his papers, answering absently, "Good. No one will attack you. Or, at least, not when you first get there."

Harry nodded. "Cool. Oh, and, hey, can you kill Nagini by tomorrow afternoon? That's when I plan to go see Voldy."

"Tomorrow? But– fine. Are you planning on bringing a lot of people to fight in the battle?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, just me and maybe a couple others. And it's not gonna be a battle. I'm just gonna jump in, crash a meeting or two, kill Tommy Boy, and jump out. Nothing to it."

Draco just stared at Harry before shaking his head and going back to his papers. How was it his problem in Harry was suicidal?

Harry smiled at Draco ignoring him. "I can feel the love, Dray."

"Don't call me that," Draco ground out before heaving a sigh. It seemed that if he was ever going to get Harry to leave, he needed to talk about… gah, _feelings_. "So why, exactly, are you so peeved with Black? And, I'm assuming, Lupin as well?"

Harry mock-gasped. "Why, Draco, I didn't realize how much you cared."

Draco, now used to idiotic Gryffindors thanks to teaching, just pointed out, "You're evading the issue. And no, I don't care. Not at all. You just obviously won't be leaving until I get you to get over whatever your problem is with Black and Lupin."

Harry hesitated before giving in and sitting up to face Draco, who looked up, once more, from the papers. Who knew; maybe a bit of a mock-therapy session would help. Even if it was Draco acting as therapist. "Well, through a series of events that I'd rather not describe, Sirius and Remus are now my slaves." Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, let's not go into that."

Draco shrugged. He really didn't want to go into it anyways.

"Yes, so then I was making them apologize to Mrs. Black's portrait when she brought up the subject of 'marking' them because they're my slaves. Apparently, it's some sort of unspoken pureblood tradition or whatever. I'm sure you've heard about it or something."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I learned all about slaves and old pureblood customs like that a long time ago. Thanks to my _father_." Draco spat the last word with mild disgust.

Harry patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Yes, yes, everyone hates your father. I'm sure you'll learn to live with that fact eventually." Strangely enough, Draco did not look comforted. "Anyways, I then, taking upon myself every chance I could find to torture them, of course,"

"Of course," Draco responded, smirking.

"–thought it was a marvelous idea," Harry continued, blatantly ignoring Draco's interruption. "So, being the wonderful person I am, I transfigured dog collars for each of them and put them on the two."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Creative."

Harry nodded happily. "Yeah, I thought it fit."

"So what's the problem then?" Draco was almost hesitant to ask because he was quite sure by now that it was something stupid. (Or, at least, he would have been hesitant had he not been a _Malfoy_; Malfoys are never hesitant.)

Harry's face fell, and he became sullen. "They thought I was going to brand them."

"And?" Draco prompted tiredly.

Harry looked at him with confusion written across his face. "And they thought I was going to brand them!"

"So? What's the problem with that?" Now it was Draco's turn to be confused.

Harry looked at Draco with mild disbelief. "They thought I was going to brand them. Just the mere fact that they thought I could do something like that… it's horrible. Branding someone is just so wrong. Do they really think I'm capable of that? I mean, believing I can do horrible things like that is what got me shipped off to Azkaban!" Harry was breathing heavily by that time and was about to launch into another heated monologue when Draco raised his hand and stopped him.

"Look," he said, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly, "Normally, at this point, I would just sit back and let you vent out your frustrations, believing the entire time that I'm listening raptly, when I'm really just thinking about what I want for lunch or some such things as that."

Harry, who was actually feeling a bit better, smirked. "Had a lot of upset kids coming to you?"

"Yes!" Draco groaned. "And I don't know why they keep coming to me with their problems. Especially when I do my best to persuade them that I care more about the mating habits of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts than I do about their personal lives!"

Harry's smirk grew even wider. "I knew you'd been spending too much time with Snape!"

"Ugh!" Draco groaned again, wanting Harry to leave. "Look, that's neither here nor there." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I-it's- it's a term, okay? And aren't you supposed to be depressed? I knew you'd enjoy my pain. But anyways, like I said, normally, I would let you rant, but not today. Mostly because I think you're being stupid and partly because I really don't want to hear it."

Harry shot up, eyes flashing in indignation. "And how am I being stupid?"

"Look," Draco sighed. "Quite frankly, I think you're getting all bent out of shape over something you should really only be mildly disgruntled about. Yes, yes, it was dumb of them to think you were capable of – oh, gasp! – _branding someone_. But come one; can you really blame them?"

Draco raised pointer finger. "First of all, they haven't seen you for around three years… They don't know you anymore. They don't know enough about you now or about how much you've changed to know if you would brand them or not." Draco raised a second finger. "Second, you've just spent three years in Azkaban! Granted I get the feeling that you actually had a good time, but still. No one has any idea what you went through or how it affected you. For all we know, underneath that calm, sane exterior, you could be completely bonkers! When you first found out Sirius was innocent, were you still wary of him?" Harry nodded. "And why?"

"Because he'd… been to Azkaban." Knowing flooded into Harry's voice. "How was I supposed to know if he was still sane, especially with the weird way he was... act…ing… oh!" Maybe playing poker with the dementors hadn't been the best way to convince people of his sanity. Now Harry felt bad about just leaving like that; he would have to apologize or something.

"Good," Draco nodded firmly, glad that Harry had finally figured it out. "And besides, branding isn't the worst you could have done. There's maiming, torturing, beheading, hacking off limbs, castr–"

"Ok, ok! I get it, Draco!" Harry cut the teacher off and laughed at the man's pureblooded ideas and the bewildered look on his face as to why he'd been interrupted. Harry laughed for a few more moments before leaning in to stare at Draco intently. "Who would have thought it?"

"Who would have thought what?" Draco asked uncomfortably, squirming under Harry's harsh scrutiny.

"Draco Malfoy, Voice of Reason."

"Time for you to go." And irritable Draco pulled Harry up from his seat and dragged him over towards the door.

"Conscience to all!"

"Get out, Potter," Draco sighed, pushing Harry through the door.

"But I thought you were calling me 'Harry,'" Harry protested, refusing to budge an inch outside of the door frame.

"Just leave." Draco managed to push Harry into the hall and began pulling the door shut. "Tomorrow's death eater meeting is at six."

"In the morning?" Harry asked incredulously. He'd known that Voldemort was evil, but surely he wasn't that evil… was he?

"No, at night, you idiot. It's only for the high ranking death eaters, so whatever you're going to do, I'd do it then. I only know about it because Bellatrix let it slip yesterday when she was gloating over how she was the only one the Dark Lord hadn't tortured at their last meeting."

"Well, where is it?" Harry called as Draco pushed his foot out from where it had been keeping the door open.

"Find out yourself." Draco responded irritably, pulling the door shut with a dull thud.

Harry sat alone in the hallway for a few seconds before noticing out of the corner of his eyes that BK was spying on him from behind a corner. Smiling to himself, Harry pretended not to notice him and kept walking. As he neared the end of the hallway, BK cautiously edged his way out from behind the corner and followed Harry sneakily, eyes darting around furtively and body tense.

Harry snickered silently when BK tried to step softly on the stone but slipped on an ink puddle left by some passing student and fell into one of the suits of armor lining the wall. It didn't come apart, but it clanged loudly against the stone wall, and BK hurriedly righted it and pressed himself up against the wall in an act of camouflage. When Harry seemed not to notice any of this, his panicked expression calmed; and he looked proud of himself for keeping his presence a secret. BK then resumed sneaking after Harry, a satisfied look on his face.

Harry waited until BK was out in the open, with no suits of armor to hide behind or anything before whirling around. BK froze, as if thinking that by becoming completely still, Harry wouldn't see him. They stared at each other for a few seconds before BK suddenly took a dive for cover. Harry was about to point out that diving for cover was pointless because he'd already seen BK and because there was nowhere to dive to, but refrained from doing so as he watched the kid fall flat on his back and assume the turtle position.

Harry watched the kid flail around helplessly for a bit before finally saying, "I must have imagined it." He then turned around and walked in the direction of the door. Behind him, BK pumped his fist into the air victoriously.

**MICCELANEOUSobjects MICCELANEOUSobjects **

Harry tripped as he arrived at Grimlaund Place. Looking around, he found that not a soul was in sight. Was the Order still at whatever random desert Kreacher had sent them to? Oh, well, Harry tried to make as little noise as possible anyways when he padded up to Bernaird's room. Where was Kreacher? Normally, he would have already greeted Harry if the other inhabitants of the house were away. So they must be in… but where were they? Something was wrong; Harry knew it. But what?

Harry slowly opened the door to his room, his entire body buzzing with the anticipation of something… and promptly ducked. As he did so, more stunners and body-bind curses than he could count flew over his head. Harry immediately pulled up a shield before looking at his attackers, only to find himself staring face to face with what seemed to be the entire Order.

Harry blinked uncomprehendingly as hurt and anger welled up inside of him. He clenched his teeth as the mantra of, _'They gave me up; they gave me up; they gave me up,'_ ran through his mind. No! He couldn't blame them yet; it could all be some sort of coincidence. _'Or they could have betrayed you again.'_

In order to keep away from these thoughts, Harry focused his glare on Dumbledore, who stood in the middle of the room smugly. At the man's infuriating smirk, Harry averted his eyes to glance around the room. They were everywhere, the Order members, all with wands pointed at him.

Sirius and Remus weren't among them. If anything, this made Harry fell sicker. Were they locked away somewhere, all for "the greater good." Or, worse, could they simply not bear facing him after having betrayed him for a second time?

Harry focused his attention on Dumbledore again, who seemed to be waiting patiently for Harry to take the scene in, wanting him to get a feel for how dire his situation was. Harry's suspicions were validated when he saw Dumbledore's smirk grow even larger. Around him, the Order members looked triumphant; though, a few seemed ill-at ease with the situation. Smart people, those few… but not very smart if they were following Dumbledore.

"How did you find me?" Harry ground out, eyes blazing with blatant disgust.

Dumbledore smiled, and Harry resisted the urge to slap the twinkle out of his eyes. "My dear boy, it seems you have nowhere left to run. You are surrounded and now have no place to stay. Perhaps now you can see reason and will join us once more so that we will be able to defeat Voldemort. Of course, you shall have to be punished for abandoning us and obstructing our mission. Honestly, my boy, I would have thought you would have known better than to try and–"

"Shut up!" Harry snarled. He chose not to point out that he was not, in fact, "surrounded," as there was no one behind him. Instead, he sent his most withering glare around the room. Several members stepped back at the pure venom in his gaze. "You don't know anything about me, _Albus_. You never did. And you're a fool for thinking I'd join you. – I'd sooner ask Stan Shunpike to marry me!"

Those who knew who Stan Shunpike was paled and turned green. A few even looked like they might throw up. Harry knew he'd gotten under Dumbledore's skin when the old man stiffened slightly, and his smile grew taunt. "Now how did you find out where I was? And where are Sirius and Remus?"

"It's Professor Dumbledore, my boy; and I'm certain you'll feel differently soon enough. After all, you are too young to fully understand how war works. You need our guidance. As for Sirius and Remus, well… they should have come to me as soon as you had approached them. They'll need to be punished as well…"

"I'm twenty years old!" Harry exploded. Around him, wind seemed to pick up; and the furniture began to creak and shake, as if being shaken by some unseen force. Harry tried to force himself to calm down, succeeding only in ceasing the shaking. "And I know more about war than you ever could! Now, WHERE ARE SIRIUS AND REMUS?"

Order members flinched and ducked, and a few even let out small shrieks as the glass around them exploded, showering them in harmless shards. Even the glass coffee table exploded, forcing the few standing next to it to fall back. Dumbledore stared searchingly at the now heavily breathing Harry before motioning to some hidden members in another room.

Harry watched in relief and then horror as a pale and shaking Sirius and Remus were hauled out of the bathroom to stand before Harry. They were tied up extensively and gagged, and, while they had no open or visible wounds, every stumbling step they took seemed to pain them.

'_Of course,'_ Harry thought sardonically_. 'A great light wizard like Albus Dumbledore would never be caught torturing anyone.'_ He had no doubt that the conniving old man had subjected them to a whole new kind of torture via leglimency. Harry knew first-hand how very painful that could be. And none of the Order members had probably even known what Dumbledore had been doing to the two. With everyone none the wiser, the manipulative man had been free to do whatever he'd wanted.

Harry felt his shield expand for a second in an unconscious attempt to attack Dumbledore, but he carefully reined it in and managed to snarl, "So you tortured my whereabouts out of them?"

Dumbledore, to his credit, did an astounding job of acting as if the thought had never even crossed his mind as he pulled an ashamed-looking Tonks up beside Sirius and Remus. Her hair was dull black that drooped down in front of her face, and she stared down at her feet blankly. Regret rolled off of her in spades. Dumbledore looked at Harry in what he tried to pass off as shock that Harry could think such a thing, while he gripped Tonk's shoulders.

"Oh, no, Harry! I would never do something as dark as torturing them. That's Tom's way, not mine." Dumbledore sent an unconvincing smile Harry's way and tightened his grip on Tonk's shoulders. "No, we discovered your hideaway thanks to the wonderful Nymphadora here." The wonderful Nymphandora cringed faintly as she felt Harry turn his accusing glare towards her, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

"And how, exactly, did she do that?" Harry's words dripped with disdain and hate that he didn't even bother hiding. Harry felt his magic surge within him, reacting to his volatile emotions as he, himself, imagined what had happened.

"Well, I simply had Nymphadora transform herself into Remus. Of course, we chose Sirius to be the one she would talk too, as Remus was more likely to discover that she was merely impersonating the other. Sirius would be too… trusting, all too willing to talk about his godson, to realize. And, so it was. All she had to do was start a conversation about you, and, within a matter of minutes, we had your location. We then… apprehended our two Benedict Arnolds **(2)** and set up to wait for you here."

Dumbledore sounded proud of himself. In front of him, Sirius shook with a combination of anger and pain as he glared at the smug headmaster. He looked disgusted with himself for giving up Harry, albeit that he was tricked into it.

Harry saw red.

One second. Just one second's lapse in control was all it took for his magic to explode. A bright light flashed through the room for the barest of moments before disappearing immediately as Harry reined it in. But that one second was all that was required.

When Harry looked up from where he'd fallen back in the effort of wrestling with his magic for control, the room was in ruins. Chairs were in splinters; pots were broken; and even the floor had a jagged crack running up it. Most of the Order members were simply knocked back, winded and dizzy, but otherwise fine. No, most of the damage had been directed at those directly in front of Harry… ie, Dumbledore, Tonks, Sirius, and Remus.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Sirius and Remus were fine, seeming to have been protected somehow, but a queasy feeling filled him when he saw the other two. Dumbledore was fine, just knocked deeply unconscious and, from what Harry could tell, would stay that way for some time. Good. But it was the sight of Tonks that filled Harry with disgust at his loss of control.

The woman stared, wide-eyed and terrified, down at herself as her body changed by the second. Dark skin, light skin, red hair, blonde, green eyes, blue eyes, fat, skinny, somewhere in between, male, female. The distraught woman let out a thin scream as realized she couldn't stop changing, and she passed out, body shifting still, even while unconscious. **(3)**

Harry winced guiltily. He had no idea if she would ever have the same kind of control over her powers that she had once had, though he was sure that St. Mungo's would be able to stop the shifting… eventually.

It sickened Harry to think of how much worse things could have been; he knew better than to lose control like that by now, especially with his new dementors-style magic. Harry shook himself from his bout of self-anger as McGonagall came forward and tried to wake the unconscious headmaster. Harry turned to the two people who had been holding Sirius and Remus. The two dazed members flinched back when he turned his sights towards them, and Harry hated the fear in their eyes. Fear of him.

"L-look," Harry cleared his throat and stepped forward, ignoring the way everyone in the room but Sirius and Remus started when he moved. "Just give me Sirius and Remus and just, just get out. Take your manipulating headmaster and leave."

Many of the people immediately jumped on the opportunity to leave and scrambled out the door, giving Harry a wide berth as they did so; but some of the more persistent members hesitated. Harry ignored the fact that Ron Weasley and Granger were some of the first ones out the door.

He turned to those left and sighed. "I'm just going to gather some things and leave. And I don't want you lot here while I do that. I'll be long gone by the time your headmaster wakes up."

This got the others to move out as well, supporting the surprisingly heavy old codger's body as they did so, as well as grabbing the ever changing Tonks. Moody remained behind for a few seconds to glare at Harry, and the two ended up in some sort of impromptu glaring contest. Needless to say, as Moody hurried out looking even more unhinged than usual, Harry won.

Harry turned his attention to the still trembling Sirius and Remus. He reached down to carefully cut of the ropes binding them and undo the gags only to find his arms full of werewolf and ex-convict as soon as they were free. Harry hesitantly wrapped his arms around the two as they grabbed onto him for dear life.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry…" Sirius mumbled into Harry's shirt, while Remus simply breathed in deeply, comforted by the scent of his cub. The two were so distraught that they didn't even seem to remember that Harry was supposed to still be angry with them. Not that Harry was going to begrudge them anything at the moment, seeing as how much they'd suffered just for keeping his secrets.

"I'm… s-so sorry, so s-sorry. I didn't know… I couldn't… he was in my mi–… I-I'm sorry. So sorry," Sirius said brokenly, muffled against the cloth of Harry's cloak.

Harry looked down at Sirius at those stuttered words, and he tightened his gripped on the man still shaking with grief and fear. "Don't be sorry," Harry said fiercely, causing both Sirius and Remus to look up in confusion. "It's not your fault at all. If anything, it's my fault. I should have known that Dumbledore would try something like that. You shouldn't have had to go through that."

"And you shouldn't have had to go to Azkaban," Remus said softly, eyes full of muted pain.

Harry stared down at the man in shock. What had Dumbledore done? How many boundaries had he violated in these two men, usually so full of life but now subdued and depressed, to get at Harry? "…No, I shouldn't have had to go to Azkaban," he said slowly.

Sirius finally seemed to gain some control over himself and mock-glared at Remus and Harry. "Let's all just agree that crap seems to happen to us, blame Dumbledore, and get over it."

Harry let out a laugh and disentangled himself from the two unstable men. Carefully, he pulled them to their feet, wincing as it took each of them several tries before they could stand on their own. "Look," Harry said quietly, making sure to make eye contact with each of them. "I understand if the two of you want nothing more to do with me now, and I'd be perfectly willing to take you somewhere safe and make sure you'd never have to hear from me ag–!"

"Why would we want to do that?" Sirius broke in angrily, Remus nodding in agreement behind him. "After all we've been through for you, do you really think we'd just abandon you?"

Harry faltered at the sincerity in his ex-godfather's words. "Well, you've been hurt, tortured because of me! If you stick behind me, you'll get hurt again for certain. I can't guarantee your survival, and after my little lapse in control, I just figured…"

"That we'd leave you to face things alone, just like we've done to you before and people having been doing to you your entire life." Remus' voice was gentle and full of understanding and compassion but firm in its conviction.

Harry looked down at his feet and just shrugged. Suddenly, he felt strong, comforting arms wrap around him, and he glanced up in shock. Sirius' determined eyes met his own sad ones. It seemed that his godson's pain had caused Sirius to overcome, if only momentarily, whatever damage Dumbledore had done to him. "I will never abandon you like that again, Harry. It doesn't matter how much I get hurt or how many times you lose control and pull some whacked out kind of magic on me."

A ghost of a smile graced Harry's lips at Sirius' rough terms for dementor magic. "I'm here for you no matter what, and I always will be." Sirius spoke with such… _finality_ that Harry couldn't resist the urge to break eye contact and resume staring at his feet, completely at a loss of what to say.

Thin but strong fingers gripped Harry's chin, forcing him to stare Remus in the eyes. "I feel the same way, Harry," the werewolf said calmly. "You'll always be my cub, and I won't let anyone hurt you again. Not if I can help it at all."

Harry blinked rapidly to dispel the sudden moisture amassing in his eyes, and his throat seemed to close up, rendering him unable to speak for a few moments. "O-okay," he managed after a few tries. Darnit, he was supposed to still be angry with them! "Um, alright, then. I-I'll just get Kreacher and Missy, and we can, uh, go, I guess." He sounded awkward and unsure, and he knew it. But Darnit! That was the best he could do right then!

"Um, where is Kreacher anyways?" Sirius colored immediately, and Remus began to laugh. "What?" Harry questioned, his curiosity piqued.

Remus managed to explain between gasps of laughter. "Sirius seemed to decide to take being nice to Kreacher one step further by making him and Missy dinner."  
"And?" Harry blinked uncomprehendingly, and Sirius groaned.

"Let's just say that we have now discovered that house elves can get food poisoning."

Harry stared at Sirius in shock. "You poisoned them?"

"Not on purpose!" Sirius defended hastily, staring determinedly at the wall. "I was just trying to do something nice. I feel bad for Missy; she didn't deserve getting sick. Now, Kreacher on the other… er, I'm very sorry. It's a terrible tragedy for both of them."

Harry ignored the jibe at Kreacher; maybe the two of them would never get along. "You didn't kill them, did you?" he exclaimed in mild horror. Who knew what Sirius' cooking could do.

"What? No!" Sirius looked over indignantly. His cooking wasn't that bad. "They're both down there, puking their guts out." Sirius motioned with is thumb to a trap door in the floor.

"You locked them in a cellar?" Harry's eye brows shot up incredulously.

"What? No, I didn't!" Sirius paused to turn around and glare at the hysterically laughing Remus. "Shut up, Remus!" He turned back to Harry. "It was Kreacher's idea. Something about not wanting to get vomit on the 'great and noble carpet, bought and owned by the great and noble Bernaird of the great and noble House of Black, that has been passed down greatly and nobly for an entire two generations!' …I wasn't going to begrudge him that."

Harry was torn between scolding Sirius for making fun of Kreacher or commending him on his spot-on representation of the house elf. He opted instead for pulling open the trap door and yelling down, "Kreacher! Missy! Are you two alright?" He winced at the smell and waited for Kreacher's throaty reply.

"Master Harry! Kreacher apologizes for not being well to serve the Master. He will make sure to punish himself thoroughly later."

Harry flinched at the hacking cough the elf let out. He turned to look at Sirius, eyebrow raised; and the Marauder just shrugged helplessly in reply. "Er, no need to punish yourself, Kreacher. I'm fine. Just, do you need help or anything?"

"Kreacher and Missy will be fine."

From the way the elf sounded, Harry highly doubted that. But he had no idea how to contest the elf, so he let it go. "Erm, good, then. Listen; my staying here has been discovered, so I need to leave. I'm taking Sirius and Remus with me, so I want you two to stay here and get better and then to try to keep the Order from destroying the house or something, ok?"

Kreacher paused before replying, "Yes, Master Harry."

"Good. And one more thing. Never, ever, under any circumstance, are either you or Missy to take any food that Sirius has made."

"Of course, Master Harry," Kreacher responded, this time without hesitation.

"Kay, I'll call you if I need you." And with that, Harry shut the door and turned to the still snickering Remus and the still red Sirius. "You two are looking better. Come on, then; let's go." Harry grabbed the two surprised men by their arms and began the task of hauling them out the door.

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked, confused by the sudden turn of events.

"To see a friend."

**MICCELANEOUSobjects MICCELANEOUSobjects **

Harry stared up at Lucas from down on his knew, eyes pleading. Lucas yawned and leaned up against the wall of the nearby alley they were in. Around his neck, the necklace-thing Harry had given him glowed. Sirius and Remus stood on either side of Harry, having no idea what was going on. Remus was staring at Lucas with wide eyes, having recognized him by scent as a werewolf. Harry had a smile at the thought of what Remus' reaction would when he found out Lucas' status before focusing, once more, on giving Lucas his best puppy dog face.

"So let me get this straight," Lucas said, blinking and rubbing his eyes blearily. "You called me out here at 9:00 at night, after I've spent the entire day in meetings for my dad and just want to sleep, because you got found squatting at your old place, and now you, your ex-convict ex-godfather, and your old teacher, who happens to be a werewolf, need a place to stay. Oh, and you've decided to go attack Voldemort tomorrow and need help getting into his castle like I promised."

Harry looked at Lucas for a few moments. "Yep, that's about it."

Lucas sighed deeply and started walking away. "…Follow me."

Grinning, Harry scurried after the werewolf, Remus and Sirius in tow. Drawing up with Lucas, he looked the man up and down, taking in his disheveled hair, ruffed up clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes, as well as several ink stains on his face. Harry smirked. "You look good, Lucas."

"Shut up, Harry."

**Author's Note: (1) BK=backpack kid. Get it? Anyone? …No? Oh, alright, poor attempt at humor aside, I really didn't want to have to keep spelling his name out.**

**(2) I feel like Dumbledore, being Dumbledore, would know who this is. **

**(3) Thanks to Tryptophan36 for the idea of revenge on Tonks. **

**Okay, on the whole **_**MICCELANEOUSobjects**_** thing. I decided that since my page breaks seem not to be working, that will be my new page break. I hope I did not confuse anyone, and please let me know if it doesn't seem to work or fit or anything. I'm just sick and tired of my line breaks not working. And there is no special reason it's **_**MICCELANEOUSobjects**_**… I was just trying to find something to put in. **

**Anyways, sorry for the wait, but the chapter's extra long as an apology. (Over 7,000 words. I have really got to stop writing so much in one chapter.) The creative part of my brain decided to take a vacation. Thanks so much to all of my reviewers. I appreciate every single one of them, even the short ones. :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Do **_**you**_** own Harry Potter? No? Then stop asking dumb questions because, obviously, neither do I.**

Chapter 22

"Mmmph." Harry rolled over to his left, trying to grab at his blanket, which he'd accidentally kicked off in his sleep. Unfortunately, to his surprise, he ran out of bed. In fact, he ran out of floor too. With a muffled yell, Harry found himself rolling off of the second-floor loft and onto the first-floor… well, floor. Harry groaned and rolled onto his stomach, rubbing his abused back, which happened to be what he had landed on.

"Your ability to end up on the floor no matter where you are never ceases to amaze me, Harry."

Harry looked up into the small kitchen area connected to the living room he'd fallen into to find a grinning Lucas just two feet away, lazily sipping coffee while leaning against the counter. "You could have caught me," Harry responded irritably, getting up slowly.

Lucas smiled leisurely. "I suppose I could have, but then again, how was I supposed to know you'd manage to fall out of the loft at this exact moment?"

"You're a werewolf, and you were standing right there. I'm sure you could have caught me had you wanted to," Harry grumbled.

"Aww, you're just looking for someone to blame. You know what's amazing?"

"No, but I'm sure an annoying werewolf is about to tell me." Harry moved over to the kitchen and grabbed an apple.

"That you somehow managed to miss the couch." Lucas pointed his finger over at a large, expansive couch lying directly beneath Harry's former bed up on the open-mouthed loft. Harry had somehow managed to fall two feet to the right of it.

"Shut up," Harry said, his back still smarting from the fall. "Why was I even on that bed anyways? I distinctly remember claiming the bed next to the wall."

Lucas smirked. "And falling asleep as soon as we got here. Sirius and I decided that seeing as you were already asleep, we might as well move you to the bed near the opening. And since you're the _Boy-Who-Lived_, we figured that even if you fell off, you wouldn't break your neck or anything."

"Your faith in me just astounds," Harry retorted dryly. "And this is why I say everyone I meet is out to kill me."

"Not everyone, just us and Voldemort," Lucas responded brightly. "And we're actually just out to prove that you're actually immortal, are from another dimension, and are just here to toy with our lives before ending the world in a dramatic apocalypse using rubber ducks and spaghetti-o's."

"Ha, ha," Harry said sarcastically. "'Boy-Who-Died-Rolling-Off-A-Loft.' The Daily Prophet'd have a field day with that one."

"Rather preoccupied with your hyphens, aren't you?" Lucas said amused.

"Whatever." Harry looked around the room critically. "Not exactly the safest safe house ever."

Lucas shrugged. "Well, to our credit, Remus made us pull the couch over there. Not that it helped much, though."

"I knew there was a reason I liked him," Harry muttered. "And speaking of Remus, how come he didn't know who you were until we told him? I thought he would have been able to recognize your scent or something. And I know he saw you earlier."

Lucas grimace slightly, and Harry smirked in remembrance of Sirius and Remus's reactions to finding out Lucas was the Prince of the werewolves, so to speak. Sirius had just laughed and asked if Lucas could set him up with any hot princesses. Remus, on the other hand, well… let's just say that Harry wasn't planning on letting him meet Lucas' father for a long while.

Remus had first gaped in shock for several minutes, causing Lucas to momentarily question the werewolf's sanity. Then Remus had seemed to come to his senses, but that hadn't been much better as the werewolf had immediately bowed down in front of Lucas and started spluttering things about, "His Majesty," and "How should I act?" and "How on earth did you get involved with someone like Harry?"

Harry, of course, had taken offense at that. And Sirius hadn't helped by adding, "Well, he is and prince; and you're a bit of a bum, Harry."

Finally, Lucas had needed to take Remus aside for a few minutes to talk about something. Whatever he said, it worked because Remus had immediately relaxed. Harry had tried to find out what Lucas had said, but the man had refused, saying it was a "wolf thing." Harry had persisted for a little while longer, but as both Lucas and Remus had then proceeded to ignore Harry in favor of talking to each other about similarities between werewolves and other such things. Remus seemed excited, so Harry had figured he must not have met other werewolves often – or at least not werewolves that were not with Voldemort, evil, or just plain unpleasant to be around. (Though technically, Lucas had been with Voldemort and, in Voldemort's eyes at least, still was.)

After that, Lucas had led them to a safe house of his father's, the trip taking less than half the time Harry's first trip with Lucas had taken, despite it being farther away. When Harry had commented, Lucas had just looked down and mumbled something about, "momentarily losing his sense of direction." Harry had laughed until Lucas had said something about just being, "So star struck by THE Great Harry Potter." Harry had grimaced and let the topic drop.

Harry shook himself out of his musings as he realized Lucas had something and was looking at him expectantly. "Oh, sorry, I momentarily forgot you were there."

Lucas smirked. "You sure do know how to make someone feel appreciated, Harry, especially considering it was you who just asked me a question."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry. I've just… had a lot on my mind at the moment." Honestly, it was trued. Life had been much simpler at the maximum security wizarding jail Azkaban.

"Yeah, I know, considering what you're doing today…" Lucas took on a softer tone and adopted a concerned look, but Harry shot him a glare that immediately wiped the concern off Lucas' face. He didn't need Lucas to be concerned for him, especially since Lucas didn't know the half of what Harry was setting out to do. "Er, anyways, like I said before, the reason Remus didn't recognize me was because we had a spell in place to get rid of all scents."

Harry grinned. "I've heard of it. But he saw you as well, so why didn't he recognize you?"

Lucas shrugged. "I guess that with my father there, as well as Greyback, Remus was too occupied to notice me. Then there was you, so… do you really think he was paying me any attention at all?"

Harry shrugged. "Good point."

Suddenly, a large clunk as well as a sharp cry of pain sounded, followed by several smaller clunks. Lucas and Harry whipped around in time to watch Sirius fall down the last two steps of the stairs into a heap at the bottom. Sirius sat for a while, dazed, and Remus poked his head out of the top of the stairs. "I told you to watch where you stepped," he called with a grin.

Lucas and Harry burst into laughter.

"Hey," Sirius whined, getting up and brushing himself off. "I could have been seriously injured."

Harry smirked. "And we still would have laughed – you're fine."

Sirius harrumphed and sat himself down at the kitchen counter, sulking. A grinning Remus walked down the stairs. "Okay," Lucas clapped his hands together and reached over for a cloth bag. Sticking his hand inside, he pulled out three pairs of robes – death eater robes. He tossed a pair to each of the men. "Go change, and then we'll head out."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What? No robes for you?"

Lucas leaned back, a satisfied look on his face. "Being a werewolf prince has its perks. Like not having to wear a dress to try to blend in. Everyone will just think I'm standing in for my father for some meeting and won't bother me."

Harry aimed a small slap at the back of Lucas' head. "Lucky little bugger. I swear, these death eater robes are even more feminine than dress robes."

Luas shrugged. "Sometimes I think being a werewolf is a whole lot better than being a wizard."

"Were you a wizard before you were bitten?" Remus asked curiously.

"Nah," Lucas shook his head. "I wasn't a wizard. I had just gotten into a fight one night with my parents and happened to wander into the wrong London alley at the wrong time. I couldn't very well go home after I figured out what had bitten me, and so, my dad found me and took me in. I haven't seen my biological parents since, but it's alright because I'm pretty sure they're better off without me." Lucas's voice became softer at the last sentence, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

Remus opened his mouth, presumably to ask some scholarly question about just how Lucas had found himself in a London alley close enough to the wizarding world to have a werewolf in it, but Harry cut him off. "Yes, yes, backstory, backstory. Look, I hate to interrupt; but that death eater meeting isn't going to crash itself." Harry made a mental note to talk to Lucas and his father later about the whole biological parents thing later, as now really wasn't the time. But he knew from experience how Lucas felt, and knew he wouldn't want to talk about it in front of so many people anyways.

"You're right," Lucas pushed himself up off the wall he had been leaning on, sounding relieved. He made shooing motions as the three. "We're on a schedule with this meeting, and, personally, I think the sooner Voldemort's gone, the better."

Harry and Remus turned to go get changed upstairs, dragging a confused Sirius with them. "But wait," Sirius called. "What about breakfast?"

**MISCELLANEOUSobjects****MISCELLANEOUSobjects **

"Sirius, quit squirming around. You're drawing attention to us." Lucas shot a look at Sirius, who was fidgeting, scratching at his back while covered in the heavy, black death eater robes. His hands played with his mask, and Remus had to push them away.

"But it's itchy," he whined, only to get slapped over the head by Remus, who whispered at him to shut up.

They were currently standing in line at one of the back doors to Voldemort's castle. Around them, death eater roamed, waiting to gain admittance through the wards. A small line formed where a higher level death eater – Dolohov or something – checked all entering death eaters for dark marks. Many of the death eaters' attention was on the band of four, but they quickly lost interest when they came closer to the entrance, and Sirius stopped moving around, albeit a twitch or two.

As they headed up to the front, the death eater turned his sneer on them. "Your mark?" he asked, eyes looking the four up and down. They did look quite the strange bunch, with one werewolf in day to day clothes surrounded by three men in death eater robes, one of them another werewolf, one looking highly uncomfortable, and one looking strangely at ease in his surroundings.

Lucas only sighed and held out a small silver snake medallion, signaling that he was a visiting ally. The death eater took a closer look at Lucas' face, and his sneer grew even more pronounced. "Werewolf."

It was a wonder that Voldemort still had any allies if the disgusted way his followers treated any visiting creatures was the norm. The death eater nodded for Lucas to move on in, and was reaching for Harry to grab back his sleeve when Lucas stopped him. "These three are with me."

"Then why are they wearing our robes? And with the hoods up as well?"

"Because they're my men, and I don't want them being openly persecuted like I am. I can handle thugs like you; they shouldn't have to."

Harry watched as the death eater pulled out his wand and cast some sort of spell to throw Lucas to the ground. Tch, lazy, lazy, of course a wizard would never think to just shove someone to the ground; no, they had to use a spell.

"Disrespect, _werewolf_," the death eater whispered, kicking the fallen Lucas in the stomach. "Now move, filth."

Lucas, to his credit, just stood up and walked inside, neither flinching from whatever pain he must have felt nor acknowledging the death eater who had kicked him or the crowd of death eaters gathered at all. He motioned for Harry and the others to walk in front of him, and they did so hesitantly. Lucas ignored the mocking jeers of the death eaters as he moved past them and didn't even stop when one of the bolder lower-level death eaters shot a cutting curse at him, slicing his cheek open.

By the time they had entered the building and Lucas had pulled them into an empty corridor, Harry was trembling with barely suppressed rage. "Harry," Lucas tried to calm the irate wizard before he even started; but Harry wasn't having any of that.

"How dare they. You are a visiting ally ambassador. How dare they do that."

Lucas sighed. "It's like this every time we come. They're just putting on a show for each other, trying to prove they're strong and powerful by mocking us. It's best just to ignore them."

Harry yanked his hood back, pulled his mask off, and let it clatter to the floor. He glared at Lucas fiercely, enraged. "And what is wrong with you? You just let him do that! And you're saying that's usual! Why would you join with Voldemort when he lets his followers treat you like that? Heck, he probably treats you even worse."

Lucas reached up to yank the hood back over Harry's head, but the wizard moved away, thwarting the effort. "Are you saying that the wizarding world treats us any better?" Lucas' voice turned cold, and Harry faltered just a bit but refused to back down.

"At least they don't attack you."

Lucas gave a bitter laugh, the kind that lets you know there's really nothing to laugh about. "Of course they do, just not in the open like that. I can't tell you how many times a werewolf has come to us beat up because some wizards decided they didn't want 'monsters like them around.' And wizards hurt us in other ways as well. Do you have any idea how many werewolves and their families starve or are forced to resort to illegal things because wizards refuse to employ us? Heck, sometimes they refuse to let us even buy from them. Voldemort and his followers may treat us horribly and may hurt us, but at least they pay us and employ us and let us try to live, if only just barely!"

Lucas slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily and running his hand through his hair wildly. Remus and Sirius remained quiet, not seeming to want to intrude on Harry and Lucas' intense conversation. Harry reached forward to touch Lucas' shoulder.

"I know, Lucas. Things have been horrible for you and your kind, and I won't pretend to understand everything you've gone through." His voice was soft, but his face set in determination. "But we're going to change that. I promise you we will. And someday, no one's going to dare even think about doing anything to you. But before I can work on changing fundamental rules in the wizarding world, I've got another problem I need to take care of. Namely, the fact that Voldy's still breathing – that is, if you can count what he does as breathing."

Lucas nodded and gave Harry a wry smile. "And you know, you're probably one of the only people out there who understands what we've gone through, with people constantly judging you and God knows what else you've probably been through. And… I trust you. Merlin knows why, but I do. And I think that if anyone can help us, you can."

Harry felt distinctively uncomfortable with such a compliment, and he covered it up with a smirk. "Merlin? I thought you said you weren't a wizard."

Lucas full out grinned. "I'm not, but you crazies are contagious."

Harry grinned in return. "Magic does sound crazy at first, but you get used to it."

Lucas let out a short laugh. "If anyone had told me there was such a thing as magic before I was bitten, I would have thought they'd escaped form an insane asylum."

Harry chuckled a little in return. Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat sounded form down the hallway. Harry's hands flew up to his hood, which was down, and his eyes turned to the discarded mask on the ground. Sirius and Remus immediately drew their wands. At the end of the hallway stood a death eater, hood up and mask on. He leaned against the wall, not seeming at all uncomfortable or surprised to see Harry there. If posture could have a facial expression, he would have been smirking.

"Started the party without me, did you?"

Harry relaxed immediately before rolling his eyes. "Of course not, Draco. How could we?"

Draco sauntered forward and stood before Harry. He leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear. "The snake's dead. I made sure of it, and even burned its body with fiendfyre."

Harry's eyebrow lifted inquiringly. "Does Voldemort know?"

Draco shook his head slightly. "Not yet, but you had better take care of him soon; or I'm bread."

Harry paused, dumbfounded. "The term is _toast_, Draco."

"Whatever."

"Hey, I thought you were straight, Harry?"

Harry blinked at Lucas' odd question and pulled back from Draco. "I am."

"Then why are you standing so close to and whispering with that guy. If he's your boyfriend, you could have just told me."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, dumbfounded for a second time that day. "Oh, for the love of – I'm about to go face the most powerful wizard of all time, and all you can think about is my romantic life? I'm straight, I tell you, straight!"

"Besides, I'm way out of his league," Draco cut in.

Harry ignored him. "And I have something going on with someone at the moment. –And yes, before you ask, she's a girl."

Sirius and Remus perked up at that tidbit, and Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. Why did no one seem concerned about his safety. He felt a thing sense of betrayal. Did they not care what happened to him? Were they going back to the same mentality that had led to so many of his near-death encounters?

Remus, seeming to sense this inner turmoil, immediately answered. "Because it won't do you any good for us to act worried and fuss. You need support and confidence, not molly-coddling."

"No matter how worried we might be," Sirius added in, voice sure, barely betraying a sense of pain and panic he was feeling inside.

Harry couldn't help the smile that come over his face.

"Yes, yes," Draco's voice ended the moment. "Family bonding, togetherness, blah, blah, blah… Look, the meeting is going to start in a few minutes, and I'm sure all that emotional crap can wait until later, _after_ you've gotten rid of the evil dark lord who wants to take over the world."

Harry turned to look at Draco, a grin on his lips. "But of course, Draco. I live to serve."

"You'd better," Draco nodded, his expression hidden by the mask; but Harry was vaguely sure he was smiling. "Now put on your mask before someone comes along, and I have to pretend to want to maim you."

"Alright, alright," Harry smirked and grabbed his mask again, placing it over his face, before pulling his hood back up.

The mask covered Harry's smirk as it grew wider when he heard Draco muttering about "idiotic Gryffindor tendencies." Draco then looked Harry up and down before nodding. "There, as unattractive as ever, but now you won't be found out, unless you decide to do something stupid again. …Let's hurry it up because it won't be long now until you do." Harry heard Lucas chuckle besides him and tried to shoot the werewolf a glare, but it didn't work, on account of the mask.

"Anyways," Draco continued as he pointed around the corner opposite the one he had come from. "The meeting's down that hallway, and we should get there soon, before anyone gets suspicious. The death eaters always arrive early so that Voldemort won't torture them if he gets there before they do."

"But I thought you didn't want to take any more part of this?" Harry grinned wickedly beneath his mask.

"Bellatrix decided today that since I was sooo dedicated to Voldemort that I would beg others for the chance to feed Nagini, I should be allowed to attend the meeting."

"Seriously?" Harry asked in disbelief.

Draco sighed. "Yes, really. Personally, I think she just smells that something's up and wants to keep an eye on me while I'm here so that I don't cause too much damage. …A bit late for that, really."

"And Voldemort just lets death eaters bring guests to his meetings?"

"Actually, uh," Draco paused and coughed. "Bellatrix only hinted that I should come, and I took the liberty of stunning one of the higher up death eaters who's about my size so that I could take his place. I figured it won't matter if you win, but if you end up dying, I can always just blame Bellatrix."

"Finally, someone who questions my ability to win!" Harry sounded exuberant, which was strange, but what about him lately wasn't strange.

Draco shrugged. "It's not so much that I question your abilities, but more that I just like to have a backup plan."

Harry rolled his eyes, which, once again, was a useless gesture because of the mask. "Such a Slytherin. Anyways, let's get going." Harry turned the corner Draco had pointed at only to suddenly catch sight of a dementor. Harry immediately turned back around, running into Sirius and Remus, who had been following him. "There are dementors here." IT wasn't a question, and Draco flinched at the dangerous tone to his voice.

"Oh, right, yes, there are. I forgot to tell you. Voldemort likes to have a few patrolling his halls at all times." Draco seemed to mistake Harry's tense posture as concern about getting attacked. "Don't worry; they are ordered not to harm anyone unless under his orders. They really only serve to make allies easier to bend to his will through their effects. Though, strangely, the dementors don't seem to affect Voldemort himself."

Harry smirked slightly at that before zoning off. There were dementors here. Harry was eternally grateful for the mask then, as it covered the longing on his face. If there were dementors here, then maybe Juan was here. Harry desperately wanted to talk with him. He wanted, no, he needed, to talk to someone about what he was about to do. And neither Sirius, Remus, nor Draco would understand in the least.

Harry made his decision and came back to the world, only to find Sirius snapping fingers in front of his face and Remus looking as if he was contemplating whether or not to remove Harry's mask. Lucas was watching the entire the rather concernedly but seemed as if he thought he'd better leave it to those who had known Harry the longest. Draco just looked bored. Harry shifted his weight, startling Remus and Sirius, who jumped back and tried to look as if they hadn't been doing anything.

Draco looked up from the hem of his robe, which he had been inspecting. "Your fit of insanity over?" he asked in a seemingly disinterested voice. But Harry caught the slight tremor in his voice and internally winced in sympathy. Draco was using sarcasm and bravado to mask his fear. Yes, he was afraid. And Harry couldn't blame him for it; crashing a high-ranking death eater party had to have major consequences if you were caught. And Draco, being a Slytherin, probably wanted to avoid breaking any of Voldemort's rules, just in case Harry didn't succeed.

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus had turned towards Harry, posture tense and hunched at the "insanity" comment. Lucas looked a little lost at this, not understanding their reactions to an innocent comment. Harry just laughed it off. "Yeah, yeah, my 'fit of insanity' is over." Harry glanced around the corner again at the dementor and swallowed thickly. He didn't want a confrontation here.

"Look… Lucas, I want you, Remus, and Sirius to go on ahead without me." Harry could feel their eyes on him as they stared incredulously, and he shifted nervously.

"Maybe this fit of insanity isn't quite over yet," Draco said slowly.

"Harry," Remus tried to reason, "We need to stay together. We are in the middle of Voldemort's castle! We can't leave you on your own; you wouldn't be safe. …Or at least not as safe as you would be if you stayed with us."

Harry pointed his thumb at Draco. "I wouldn't be alone. He'll be with me."

Sirius snorted.

Draco drew himself up haughtily. "'ll have you know that your golden boy would be perfectly safe with me. I'm–"

"Yes, yes," Harry broke in. He just wanted to go, in case the dementor decided to leave the hallway. "You're a Malfoy, a great wizard, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera." He suddenly reached forward and grabbed both Sirius and Remus by their shoulders. "I wanted to let you do this of your own free will, cut here goes. Sirius, Remus, I order you both to go with Lucas into the meeting."

There was a long, drawn out pause, in which Harry waited to see if they would try and object. But they couldn't. Harry had driven them into a corner, and protesting wouldn't do any good. Harry turned to Lucas. "You'll go with them?"

A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over Lucas' face – confusion being the most prominent – but some of the desperation he felt must have seeped into Harry's voice as Lucas nodded minutely. "Thank you." Relief colored Harry's voice. "Now please go."

Lucas walked forward and grabbed Sirius and Remus' arms, dragging the obviously reluctant two behind him. They were about to turn the corner when Harry's voice betrayed him. "Wait!" Surprised, they turned to look at him, and Harry fumbled with what to say. This might be the last time he ever got to talk with them. Harry reached forward and grabbed Sirius in a hug and then proceeded to grab Remus in one as well. Harry released both of them before they could respond. "

"Harry," Sirius breathed, voice fading away as he realized he didn't know what to say.

"Just… be safe, okay? And don't worry about me."

There was a small silence as the two processed his words, and Harry silence Sirius when he opened his mouth to yell so that they would not be caught. He watched as Lucas grabbed Sirius again and pulled him and Remus away as he struggled. Harry hadn't, however, expected Remus to speak up.

"Harry, what are you going to do? Harry! Harry! Don't do anything rash! Harry!" he called frantically, panicking over whatever it was that he thought Harry was going to do.

"Just go." Harry flicked his hand at Remus, silencing him. Lucas looked at Harry hesitantly before dragging the two around the corner. And… awkward silence descended between Harry and Draco.

"Touching." Draco tried to nudge a silent Harry into conversation.

Harry ignored him.

Draco, feeling that Harry had, in some way, challenged him, decided to ignore Harry as well. It only lasted a few blessed minutes ,however, before Draco spoke up again. "Why are we just standing here? We're going to miss the meeting."

Harry nodded. "You're right. I just wanted to make sure they got in. You should go on in as well."

Draco pushed himself up off the wall he had been leaning on. "You aren't coming?"

Harry shook his head. "I have something to take care of."

Draco hesitated only a second. "You're going to do something incredibly idiotic, aren't you?"

Harry broke into a grin. "Of course."

Draco paused again before strolling down the hall and out of Harry's sight, calling behind him, "Don't flub this up, Potter!"

Harry smirked and waited a few more minutes. Then he ripped the suffocating mask off his face and ran around the corner. The dementor was still there. Thank God. Harry jogged up to the dementor, whose back was facing Harry. "Hey." The dementor ignored him. "Hey!" Still being ignored. Irritated and on edge, Harry pushed the dementor with his hand, accidently causing said dementor to stumble.

"Juan, if that's you, I swear I'll…" The dementor trailed off as he turned around and saw that it was Harry. "You're not Juan."

Harry nodded happily. "Rather bright, aren't you? Juan's a good friend of mine."

"You're Harry Potter," the dementor stated, eyes trailing up to Harry's scar.

"Wow, two in a row. Your mother must be proud. Who are you?"

The dementor answered slowly, seeming to size Harry up. "My name's Jeremy. You wouldn't know me because I've been assigned here in the castle since before you came. You're much more sardonic that Juan described."

"How did he describe me?" Harry asked curiously.

Jeremy shrugged. "He said that you were a brat, but not that you were a sardonic brat.""

"Of course he would," Harry muttered. Harry leaned in close to peer at Jeremy. "Look, it's Jeremy, right? I swear, you dementors purposefully give yourselves the most mundane names possible. But anyways, look, I haven't been having the best of days. Can you please just go get Juan for me?"

Jeremy's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, you're here to… Man, I don't blame you for being kinda hostile. I'll go get Juan."

"Thank you," Harry breathed in relief.

Jeremy glided down the hallway, and Harry heard a "good luck" before the dementor was gone from his sight. Harry sat down on the floor, back against the wall, deciding to hex any death eater to come around the corner. He didn't have to wait long because a few minutes later, on rounded the corner. Harry raised his hand to cast a curse when the death eater suddenly pushed back… _her_ hood.

"Luna?" Harry asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Luna happily skipped over the where Harry was and sat down next to him. "Draco invited me."

"What?" Harry felt his anger rise. This place was dangerous! How could Draco invite Luna?

"Well, he accidentally let it slip that you would be here. He gets quite mixed up when you use muggle phrases around him, you know."

"I see," Harry pondered that. So maybe he wouldn't seriously injure Draco, gut maybe he could lock him up in a dungeon somewhere. Perhaps his own dungeon. – That would be ironic. Draco should have known that even if he'd just mentioned Harry coming here, Luna would show up. She tended to do that.

"But he didn't mention _why_ you were here," Luna continued airily, but her gaze grew more serious as she stared at Harry.

"Oh, uh, about that," Harry fumbled with words to use. "I'm here to, uh,"

"Defeat Voldemort by letting him kill you to get rid of the piece of his soul which has been attached to you and then to kill him yourself?" Luna kept a completely innocent look on her face.

Harry stared, as series of emotions flashing through him, before settling on bemusement. Of course Luna knew. Luna always knew. At least she didn't seem angry with him. Harry had never seen Luna angry, (he wasn't sure she was even capable of anger in any sort of normal way) and he hoped to keep it that way. But it was how she knew what he'd been planning to do that baffled Harry. He hadn't told anyone but the dementors, and she couldn't talk to them… could she?

"Um, yeah, uh, how did you know that?" There might have been something akin to a cross between awe and amusement in his voice.

Luna smiled benignly. "Oh, I ran into Juan, and he told me."

Harry blinked. "You ran into Juan." Luna nodded. "Here." Another nod. "And he told you."

"Yes," she said serenely.

"I'm obviously missing something here. Okay, where is he? Maybe I'll understand him better."

Luna looked behind her. "He was behind me when I walked over here, but then he seemed to say something along the lines of 'I'll leave you two love-birds to it,' and left." She glanced around the corner curiously. "I'm assuming he's still here because he seemed to want to talk with you."

"'Seemed to say?'" Harry shook his head slightly. "Never mind. Juan?" Harry raised his voice slightly, knowing Juan would hear him. "Get out here." Harry waited a few moments and then grinned widely in relief as Juan glided around the corner. He came in close and leaned forward to look at Harry, as if inspecting him.

"Hmm, you remind me of a friend of mine. Just as short and skinny, same horribly messed up hair. He's a git, my friend is, and quite the brat. Of course, though, even he wouldn't be stupid enough to come here alone, now would he? I know he's stupid, but surely not that stupid."

Harry jumped forward and grabbed Juan in a manly man on man – er, man on dementor – hug. "Shut up, Juan. I'm not here alone; I just wanted to be alone to with you, idiot."

Juan let out a small laugh. "Good to see you, Harry. Say, have you gotten shorter since the last time I saw you?"

"Jerk," Harry smiled, letting the feeling of companionship Juan provided warm him. Nothing beat being with family, which really, Juan was – family, that is. Harry had begun to miss the dementors a lot, and he couldn't wait to end this so that he could go home and see Cindy, Uncle Morty, and the others. Then Harry pulled back to eye Juan speculatively. "So how did you find Luna and get her to understand you?"

Juan smiled sheepishly. "Actually, she found me. I was just on patrol when she suddenly showed up next to me and started talking. I don't even know how she knew it was me."

They both turned to look at Luna, who waved at them cheerfully. "I can see that happening. But how on earth did she figure out what you were saying?"

Juan shrugged, and Harry could have sworn he was blushing a bit. "I didn't think she would understand, so I decided to have fun trying to act it out, and, well… she's good at charades."

Harry resisted the urge to face palm in exasperation. If Luna had been anyone else, she would have been trying to stop him at all costs. Harry sighed and looked at Luna curiously. "Aren't you affected by being around Juan?"

Luna showed him her wrist, which was sporting a bracelet a bracelet that had something resembling a radish hanging off of it. "Juan said he was trying to block most of his powers, and my rutanga keeps me from being hurt by what he can't control. I can even touch him." To demonstrate her point, Luna grabbed Juan's hand in hers, shocking both Juan and Harry.

"…" Harry looked at her for a while. "I take it the rutanga is the radish-thing." Luna nodded happily and released Juan, who was still shell-shocked that he had been touched by a human other than Harry and was staring at Luna with open-mouthed disbelief. Luna had that effect on people. "I guess radishes have many uses."

"Yes, they do. It's a new invention Daddy and I have been working on ever since you told me about the dementor conspiracy," Luna began excitedly.

Juan looked over at Harry and mouthed, "Dementor conspiracy?" Harry just shrugged and looked bat at Luna, who was chatting animatedly.

"It's supposed to negate the effects of dementors so that they can interact with humans. You see, what we did was take a radish and we dipped it in…" Luna kept talking, and Harry glanced at Juan, who's eyes had glazed over.

"Luna."

She stopped talking immediately, looking at Harry curiously, his extremely serious gaze not seeming to phase her. "Yes?"

"Look, Luna, I," For the third time that day, Harry tried to find words and was unable. If things went wrong, this could be the last time he ever saw Luna.

Luna put her hand on Harry's, gaining his attention, and smiled at him sweetly. "I know," she said softly. "Just go so what you need to do and come back."

"How can you be so nonchalant about this?" Harry asked incredulously.

Luna looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean? Of course, I am worried some, but you're a much better wizard than Voldemort is. Also, the nargles have a grudge against him, and they like you, so you'll definitely win."

"Yes," Harry agreed bemusedly. "But I am going to die. Aren't you worried about that?"

Luna frowned at him, as if he had just said something incredibly stupid. "Some, but you'll be fine. It's all about faith, Harry. And besides, I told you before, you're a much better wizard than Voldemort, and _he's_ survived death. He's not the first, though."

"He isn't?"

"No, no, of course not. There's Merlin, Oz, Houdini–"

"Wait, Houdini was a wizard?" Harry asked, surprised.

Luna nodded. "He was. And quite a terrible one at that. Why else do you think he went into the muggle world in only because he couldn't make it in the wizarding world? If he could survive dying, then you certainly can."

"How did he survive?"

"He somehow managed to summon a geranged blumber,"

"Wait, a deranged plumber?" Harry interrupted, confused.

"No," Luna corrected. "A geranged blumber. They're quite common in Africa. This happened to him after having fallen into a herd of blood thirsty Gernumbli. The blumber took pity on him and brought him back to life afterwards."

Harry stared at Luna. "But aren't Gernumbli just garden gnomes? I thought you liked them."

"Yes, but you see, this group of Gernumbli were living in the forest, and that type of Gernumbli had a much more animalistic and aggressive attitude than normal gnomes. That's why they were banished to the forests by the others."

"I see," Harry nodded. "But how–"

"I don't mean to interrupt," Juan butted in, completely unsure of how they got off into this topic and whether or not it was actually a topic at all. "But if we don't go soon, the meeting will be over."

Luna glanced at Juan. "He's right. I'll go ahead and leave you two alone." She reached up on tiptoes to give Juan a kiss on the cheek before turning to Harry and placing a quick peck on his lips. She smiled at Harry and pressed another bracelet she had been keeping somewhere ambiguous in her robes into his hand. "Don't forget to make sure and position yourself so that when he kills you, you don't hit your head and then wake up later with a headache."

And with that, she was gone, skipping down the hallway merrily. "Where is she going?" Juan asked, a hand placed to his cheek. Harry couldn't help but smirk. With the weird turn (well, weirdest in a series of weird turns) in his life, Luna really was the perfect one for him. Who else did he know who would be able to openly touch and display affection for dementors only a few days after having discovered they weren't evil, soul-sucking monsters?

Harry didn't even bother to answer Juan, who was too preoccupied to notice. And so they stood, minds far away and awkward silence pervading while minutes ticked on and on. Finally, "The meeting's probably already started, hasn't it?"

"Oh, it probably started a while ago," Juan answered.

More awkward silence.

Harry didn't quie know how to bring up the subject of his impending death. Juan sighed. "Look, Har,"

"Don't call me 'Har.' That's dumb."

"Okay, look, Ry,"

"Don't call me that either. Harry's already a nickname, so that's just over-simplifying things."

Juan sighed a second time, though this time in exasperation. "Fine, fine. Here I am trying to be all comforting and deep, and you're nitpicking about what I call you." Juan moved closer to Harry and put his arm around the young wizard's shoulder. "Look at me, Harry."

Harry slowly looked up into Juan's black eyes, eyes full of sympathy, eyes that were seemingly endless. It was times like these more than any other that Harry could understand that Juan was hundreds of years old, though he refused to tell Harry how old. IT was easy to forget how mature Juan could be at times and how much he must have seen. … But that was mostly because of what an idiot Juan was most of the time.

"Harry," Juan repeated softly. "I know you must be scared."

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, I'm not. I'm merely concerned about everyone else's welfare." Harry felt his eyes drop down to his feet again as he lied.

"Harry! Look at me." Harry's eyes swung once again back up to Juan's. "I know you _are_ scared, and I don't blame you in the least." Juan's voice was steady and sure, and he kept eye contact with Harry, whose protests of not being scared died on his lips. "You're about to go die, and I can't have any way of knowing how you feel. Dementors don't die, or at least not like you do. We just kind of dissipate when it happens, but we usually know when the time has come, like you do now.

"But here are some things I do know. You're not going to be alone; you're friends and I will be there, and while I don't know if your friends will be able to stay the whole time, I will be there the entire time. I know you won't mess up, and you will be able to save us and kill him. And finally, I know you will survive. You. Will. Come. Back." Juan suddenly smiled. "So just get in there and get it over with; you're procrastinating. It's just like taking off a Band Aid. …Besides, you're Harry Potter. You'd have to work really hard at it to die and stay dead."

Harry gave a small chuckle. "Why is everyone so obsessed with my name?"

"Because you're so obsessed with your name," Juan replied with a swat at the back of Harry's head. Silence filled the room again as Harry contemplated what Juan had said.

"You'll be there?"

Juan nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "Yeah, I'll be there."

Harry smiled and looked down. "Okay, then." Suddenly, Juan grabbed Harry in a head lock, surprising a yelp out of the wizard. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Aww, is little Harry done wimping out on me?" Juan smirked teasingly while Harry struggled and tried to get out of the dementor's grip.

"I was NOT wimping out!"

"Then what do you call all that whining?" Juan didn't even try to hide his amusement at the struggling Harry's predicament.

"Hey, I'm entitled to a bout of self-pity every now and again."

"Yes, yes," Juan said consolingly, any sympathy in his voice belayed by the fact that he had Harry in a head lock. "Now are you ready to make your big entrance?"

"I will be once you let go." Harry finally managed to throw off Juan's arms and turned to glare at the dementor, who was grinning unabashedly. "Idiotic dementor," Harry muttered, walking down the hall.

"Wrong way," Juan called.

"Whatever," Harry turned around and grabbed a snickering Juan's arm and pulled him down the way everyone else had left. "Idiotic dementor," he muttered again.

"Hey," Juan grinned. "That's discrimination."

"Shut up, Juan!"

Harry marched down a few twisting hallways, following Juan, who took charge. Strangely enough, this whole thing had Harry feeling better and more self-assured than ever. It was probably more because of Juan's presence than because of what Juan had said. Harry didn't quite know why, but he felt safer and more comfortable around dementors than he ever had around wizards. Eh, maybe Azkaban had made him a bit crazy.

Harry noticed idly as he walked behind a happily chatting Juan that none of the death eaters he passed even spared a glance at him, despite him not disguising himself. Draco must have a lot of influence. Harry also noticed that the few death eaters he saw were few and far between and they all seemed to lower-level. He guessed that most death eaters were too smart to hang around where one of Voldemort's "all important meetings" was taking place.

Well, no one had ever accused them of being idiotic, reckless, or brave to the point of being suicidal. …Harry could not claim the same.

And so there they stood, in front of the door to the death eater meeting, a talking dementor with an attitude (and possibly mental) problem and an allegedly insane but insanely powerful wizard with revenge problems. One might wonder why, in fact, no one was guarding the door to make sure no one interrupted the meeting. Well, one's question would not be answered.

Harry turned to Juan. "So,"

"Do you have a plan for what you're going to do once you get inside?: Juan asked suddenly. "And isn't the door locked?"

"Nope, no clue, and it probably is locked."

"Git,"

"Idiot."

Juan and Harry both grinned at each other. "Luck, then" Juan saluted Harry and floated through the door. "See you on the other side."

"Cliché using cheater," Harry called, marveling once more at the wonders of dementor magic.

And so, Harry then stood alone, trying to decide on how to enter. Who knew what was going on in there, as Harry was a good hour late. Luckily, though, Harry knew from experience, though use of his bond, that Voldemort was a long-winded talker and would only be about half through with the meeting. Finally, Harry took a deep breath and blasted open the door.

**MISCELLANEOUSobjects MISCELLANEOUSobjects **

Harry may have been expecting a surprised, "Potter!" or outraged "How did you get here?" or something of some such nature, but, as we've learned by now, things never go the way Harry expected.

No, instead, Harry walked into the meeting and the first thing Voldemort said was, "Why did you have to destroy the door. It was my favorite." On a lesser being, it may have sounded whiny, but from Lord Voldemort, it was incredibly menacing and intimidating. …Or not.

Harry just blinked. "I think your repertoire of insults needs updating."

Voldemort just smiled widely and gestured around him, a rather unbecoming look on him. "I do not believe you are in the position to be making suggestions, brat."

Harry glanced around at the death eaters before his eyes rested on… no. Harry felt his anger rise, molten and hot. He turned his eyes back to Voldemort. "What are you doing with them?"

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Why entertaining them, or course."

In the corner of the room, huddled together, were Lucas, Sirius, Remus, Draco, and Luna, all chained together. The chains looked painful, but other than a few already forming bruises on Lucas and a nasty black eye on Sirius, they looked relatively harm free. Draco looked rather disgruntled, though, as if being held captive was beneath him. Luna, however, looked like she was having a grand time, though if you looked closely, her smile was just a tad nervous.

"Okay, look," Harry's nerves were abuzz. His friends were captured – heck, Luna wasn't even supposed to be there – but he needed to get this over with. Hopefully, he wouldn't be dead long enough for Voldemort to cause any damage. "Are you going to stand there and monologue, evilly mapping out your malicious desires, or can we get this over with?"

Voldemort smirked, pulling his wand out of his sleeve. "A man of action, I see, Potter. Just like your father. And – lucky you – you get to die like him as well." Harry resisted the urge to lunge at Voldemort. Attacking him wouldn't do any good… yet. "Oh, yes," Voldemort twirled his wand in his hands before turning to the group of captured people who were Harry's friends. "But before you die like your dog of a father, perhaps I should give you a chance to venture into the past a bit – more specifically, your mother's past."

Harry watched in rage as Voldemort raised his wand up to Sirius' throat, the sleek wound touching his skin causing the wizard to tremble. "I wonder how she felt," Voldemort breathed, voice barely more than a whisper. "Watching her husband die, knowing she couldn't save her son." Voldemort pulled back a few steps and pointed his wand, a twisted smile on his lips. "Well you'll find out exactly how she felt soon enough, now won't you? Ave–"

Harry lunged forward, pushing several death eaters out of the way, to fling himself in front of Sirius, whose eyes and fists were clenched tight in the face of his death. Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise, but he did not stop the spell. If anything, he looked even more excited.

'I guess I really am like my mother,' Harry though absently as Voldemort's lips formed the last syllables and green light emerged from his wand. " –da Kadavera!"

And just like that, he was dead.

**MISCELLANEOUSobjects MISCELLANEOUSobjects **

Harry didn't even remember losing consciousness. But he must have, as he woke face down on the ground at what seemed to be the area outside of Azkaban, waiting boat and all.

"I suppose I should thank you."

Harry jerked out of his sleepy faze at the foreign voice and pushed himself to his feet. Turning around, he found himself staring at a dementor. Not just any dementor, though, as he was larger still than dementors normally were, his cloak a silvery grey instead of black, and his hood even longer than a normal dementor's and pulled up to cover his face completely. He was male, though, of that Harry was sure.

"Why say thank you? All I've done so far is stab a few things and die. And no offense, but I was kinda hoping for – well, I don't know what I was hoping for, but seeing Cindy or Uncle Morty would be nice."

The dementor let out a deep, resounding chuckle. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not your Uncle Morty, but I'm afraid most dementors could not speak with you post-death. And as for thanks, whether you defeat him or not later, you have paved the way for another to."

Harry threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "The lack of faith! Finally, someone truly doesn't think I can win, and he's a total stranger! …By the way, what do you mean by 'most' dementors?"

The dementor let out another laugh and extended a grey, gloved hand to Harry, who took it warily. "I am the Lord of the–"

"Rings?"

"–Er, no, dementors."

"Oh," Harry looked a bit put out. "Yes, I've heard Juan talk about you. But you might want to work on title because that could confuse some people at first."

The dementor leaned forward to inspect Harry. "Are you quite sure dying hasn't scrambled your brain at all?"

"Should you really be saying that?" Harry asked curiously. The Lord of the Dementors shrugged. "Got a shorter title?"

The dementor coked his head. "Just call me Dave."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What is with you dementor and your mundane – look," Harry pinched the bridge of his nose before looking up with a sly smirk. "How come I haven't met you before if you rule over the dementors?"

Dave winced a little. "It's a long story, but let's just say that Voldemort decided I was too much of a threat and is keeping me trapped in his castle, unable to do anything more than command my dementors who can move around. I was physically unable to come meet you, as much as I would have liked to. However, as you are here now – and dead – I was able to meet you here."

"And where is here, exactly?" Dave shrugged again. "Dementor of few words, aren't you, Dave?"

"Nah, it's just hard to describe. I guess you could consider it a type of limbo between death and life. Here you could decide to go on and let someone else take care of Voldy or you could go back and try to kill him yourself."

"I'll go back," Harry said immediately.

Dave's stature suggested he was surprised. "Don't you want to think about it at all?"

"Could my friends possibly die if I don't go back?" Dave nodded. "Could I still live a happy life with them if I go back?" Another nod. "Would innocent people die if I don't go back?" Nod. "Then there you have it."

"What about your parents?"

Harry's expression softened. "I've waited my life to see them again; I can wait for another good few years. I'm sure they'll understand. Now how do I go back?"

"I've never met a man quite like you." There was pure admiration in Dave's voice. "I'm proud to think that you're Salazar's heir, and I cannot wait to speak to you in the real world."

"You mean this isn't real?" Harry asked, surprised.

Dave shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine. And really, muggles believe magic isn't real, but there you are. Who are we to judge?"

Harry shrugged in agreement; he had a point.

"Now just click your heels together three times and say, 'There's no place like home. There's no place like home.'" Harry glared. "Worth a try. Just try to wake yourself up; I'm sure it'll work eventually."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, muttering about how unhelpfulness must be a character trait of dementors and how everywhere had incompetent leaders as the world – if that was what it was – faded away.

**Author's Note: Okay, so first off, I came to realize I had been misspelling my page break and have now fixed that. (Thank you, Bonar, for pointing that out. I have no idea how I missed the misspelling.)**

**And secondly, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry it has been so long since I last updated. I have just kinda gotten a kick in the pants by life, with a term paper (that I'm still not finished with), my sister in law giving birth, getting sick for an entire weekend, tennis, and a really close friend (now barely an acquaintance as of last week) taking out her boy trouble on me. So . . . . . . . . I've really only had time to write on the weekends, and even then I don't have a lot of time. **

**But, rambling apology and excuses aside, I tried to make it extra, extra longer to make up for the wait, and I will do my very best to update again sooner. On another note, my story only has about two more chapters left, if my estimation is right. Just thought some of you might like to know that.**

**As for the story, Juan and Luna return, and how everyone got captured, as well as their reactions to Harry's death, will be explained in the next chapter. I hope the made up creatures were alright. Thanks so much to all of my reviewers, and please keep reading. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Do you really think J.K Rowling would have made you wait this long for an update? …Well… maybe she would have – I wouldn't know – but I'm still not her.**

Sirius and Remus were freaking out.

Now, this was a pretty usual occurrence as they had a history of freaking out at any number of things – dementors, Harry, attacks, Harry, Harry's grades, Harry, Blast-ended Skrewts, Harry. At the moment, they were, once more, freaking out about Harry – or more specifically about what he had done/was doing. No, the only unusual thing about this was the location and the circumstance; normally they weren't freaking out in the middle of Lord Voldemort's castle, being dragged down to a death eater meeting by a stoic werewolf who was refusing to meet their eyes. It was a good thing Harry had cast a silencing spell on them.

Finally, after a while of Lucas ignoring them while they tried to get him to un-silence them, they were mouthing any number of obscenities. They realized that A) Lucas was not a wizard and could not un-silence them and B) they still had their wands and could un-silence themselves. After doing so, Sirius and Remus looked at each other and then at the expressionless Lucas before Sirius finally let out a growl, ripped off his mask, and slammed Lucas up against the wall.

"Why did you let him do this?" Sirius pushed Lucas back and leveled his eyes with the werewolf's, his voice quiet and deadly. "Why did you let him risk himself like this?"

Lucas looked completely unfazed, as if being slammed into a wall by an enraged ex-convict and his werewolf best friend was an everyday occurrence. He did, however, look at Sirius strangely for his question. "What do you mean, 'Why,'?"

Sirius looked even angrier at this, and Remus didn't try to quiet him when he yelled at Lucas. "He doesn't need to do this on his own!"

"He has Draco with him," Lucas cut in.

"Draco isn't going to risk his own life to protect Harry. And Harry's planning something; we all know it! He doesn't need to do this. Why didn't you try to stop him?"

Lucas pushed Sirius back, forcing the man away a few steps, and glared coldly. "He doesn't need to do this? I've only known him about a day, and even I know he needs to do this! No wonder you let him get sent to Azkaban." Sirius growled and brandished his wand, but before he could act, Lucas swung his fist, catching the marauder in the eye. Instantly, Sirius was on the ground; and Remus' wand was at Lucas' throat, keeping the angered werewolf from his friend.

"You know it's true," Lucas said, a calm in his voice belayed by the fact that he was breathing heavily. "Harry's a grown man now. He knows what he has to do, and it's something only he can do – alone." Lucas' expression softened. "I know you want to help him, but you're not going to do any good by trying to make him explain himself, change his plans, or attacking me. You can help him just by being there when he executes whatever it is he's planning on doing."

Sirius continued to glare at the werewolf for a short while before looking down. "You're right," he said, his voice full of self-condemnation. "It's just… hard to think of Harry as able to do things this dangerous on his own, completely without my help. I don't want to let him risk himself like this."

Lucas smiled warmly, as stark contrast to how he had been acting just a few moments before. "And I'm sure he appreciates that you care and knows you would do this for him if you could. But how are you supposed to do that if only the supposed 'Chosen One' can?" Lucas paused at the looks Sirius and Remus gave him. "Yeah, werewolves know things; you wizards keep quite the extensive gossip network. Not that hard to find out anything, really."

Lucas started walking again, and Sirius followed a bit forlornly. Remus walked behind the two, silent, and face scrunched up in thought. Sirius looked back at Remus. "How are you taking all of this so calmly?"

Remus broke out of his thoughts and glanced over at Sirius, who was looking at him questioningly, almost accusingly. Remus might have taken offense had he not known Sirius so long and known he was just extremely nervous and worried, a feeling the wizard still wasn't accustomed to. "Well, it's just… did we really expect anything else from Harry?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius was at a loss.

Remus looked up at the ceiling and stretched his fingers behind his back before heaving a sigh and ripping his own mask off to peer at Sirius earnestly. "You know Harry's always been independent and self-sacrificing. He's always tried to do things on his own and keep others form getting hurt. Did you really think Azkaban would have changed his very nature? Believing he could do something that is so against his very being is…"

Remus looked down and swallowed before staring Sirius straight in the eye again. "…Is a mistake we've both already made once. We should try not to do it again."

Sirius glanced down, an ashamed look on his face at the mention of what he'd done. "I know; it's just… Azkaban was so horrible. How can it not be affecting him?" _Like it did me_.

Remus heard the unspoken phrase underlying Sirius' words. "He was only in there for three years, Sirius. Not twelve."

Sirius nodded. "I know; I know. But I had my animagus form, and he didn't. But it still doesn't seem to have affected him in the least. It should have done _something_ to him."

"And maybe it has," Remus responded. "He could just be better at hiding it. We've both known that Harry has always been good at pretending to be alright when he's not."

"He's certainly had enough practice at it," Sirius mumbled regretfully beneath his breath.

Remus continued with a thoughtful look once again on his face. "Besides, I'm beginning to think that Azkaban wasn't that bad for him."

Both Lucas and Sirius looked up sharply at this. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, he…" Remus seemed to be struggling to get across what he wanted to say. "…I agree with you. He shouldn't be this sane after a stay in Azkaban. And… it would be so easy to write this off as Harry being Harry and having his ability to do the opposite of whatever's expected of him; but while I think that has something to do with it, I don't think it's the whole story."

"Darn it!" Sirius turned to Remus furiously. "Quit with all the vague responses already! If you don't think that's the whole story, then what is it?"

Lucas reached forward and clamped a firm hand over Sirius' mouth. "You need to keep quiet," he hissed, shaming Sirius into looking down. "Why does everyone keep forgetting that we're in the middle of Voldemort's freaking castle? There's something wrong with the whole lot of you." Lucas released the hand he'd had on a now shame-faced Sirius and turned to glare at Remus, who looked down as well.

"And you should just get to the point. How much longer are you two going to make us wait here, arguing about Harry, when taking our sweet time could get us –and him by extension– in an extreme amount of trouble." Both Remus and Sirius flinched, and Lucas leaned against the wall once more, arms crossed. "Now get talking. What's this idea you have about Harry?" Lucas sounded rather tired, as if acting as the voice of werewolf reason had exhausted him.

"Well," Remus started softly, sounding subdued. "You saw how he – how he was with the dementors at Azkaban, Sirius. He seemed to… like them. He looked reluctant to leave. He even hugged them!"

"I definitely remember that," Sirius laughed bitterly to himself, recalling his absolute panic at seeing his godson with his arms wrapped around a soul-sucking monster.

"Wait, so the guy I'm entrusting my entire clan to is a guy who hugs dementors?"

"Oh, be quiet," Remus shot an exasperated look at Lucas. "We both know he's just as sane, if not more sane than the rest of us. I mean, the dementors didn't attack him, so he obviously knew somehow that he wasn't in danger. That's is why I think there must be something going on between him and the dementors."

"Like what?" Sirius asked. "A truce or something?"

"Perhaps. Maybe something entirely different." Remus sighed. "I wish he'd trust us enough to tell us, but who knows what he's thinking.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "And after what we did to him, he probably likes having something over us to freak us out."

Remus nodded sagely. Finally, Lucas made an irritated noise and grabbed Sirius' mask and slammed it back onto his face, causing Sirius to yelp in protest. Remus quickly slipped his back on when Lucas turned to do the same to him. "Now let's go. We've spent way too much time here as it is."

And with that, Lucas grabbed Sirius and Remus by their shoulders and dragged the two by their shoulders down the hallway. They stopped a few minutes later in front of the door to Voldemort's meeting room. "Wait a minute," Remus stopped Lucas from opening the door.

"What?" Lucas seemed annoyed. "If we wait any longer, we'll be late. We probably already are late."

"Are you allowed to sit in on death eater meetings?" Remus asked carefully. "I mean, is it a regular, normal thing? You're not going to get _Avada Kadavera_-ed as soon as you walk in?"

Lucas blinked and stared at Remus for a short while before blinking again. "Darnit, you're right," he suddenly said, face-palming. "He'll known something's up if I walk in there with you two." Lucas sighed and stepped away from the door. "You two should go on in. He'll know for sure you aren't death eaters if you were to walk in with me."

"Then what will you do?" Sirius asked.

"I'll just wait out here until it's over," Lucas responded, a strange mixture of relief and displeasure in his voice at not being able to see Harry kill Voldemort. "And when Harry comes by, I'll…" Lucas trailed off, eyes widening in shock.

Remus and Sirius glanced at each of in confusion before a hysterical cackle of laughter caused the two to turn around abruptly and in horror. There, with the door flung wide open, laughing madly as if she had never seen something so hilarious, was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Well, well, look who we've found lurking in the hallway," she giggled in an odd way, almost as if she was intoxicated with her own glee. "A traitorous little werewolf and his little friends. Seems those three who came to Mulciber earlier about their missing robes weren't lying after all. I suppose it's a pity now that they're dead." She grinned maliciously, looking not at all like it was a pity. Quickly, she reached down and viciously ripped the masks off the two wizard's faces. "Only death eaters get the honor of wearing these noble masks."

Suddenly, a smooth, cold voice sounded from inside the room. "Is that so, Bellatrix? Why don't you invite our… guests inside?"

"I knew that Potter was planning something!" she exclaimed in elation, bouncing forward in an exuberant way, wand out. Before the surprised three could do anything, she stunned them and grabbed Sirius and Remus' wands. She then un-stunned them, chains shot out of her wand, and the three were quickly tied together in a rough manner. "I knew as soon as the brat attacked me in Gringotts, and Draco came to me with such a sudden interest in the great honor of feeding the dark lord's snake, that something was going on!"

"That you did, Bellatrix." If anything, Voldemort sounded almost… amused. Sirius shuddered. "Now bring them inside." Sirius shuddered again as Voldemort's voice quickly morphed into something commanding and anger-filled, promising death by the thousands if Bellatrix dare keep him waiting any longer.

Sirius flinched as Bellatrix floated the three of them through the door, taking special care to make sure Sirius hit his head on the door frame, before dumping them unceremoniously on the floor in front of Voldemort's throne. Voldemort stood up and drew his wand, walking around the fallen three in a manner akin to the way a cat might circle an injured bird on the ground.

"Now let's find out what our little friends know about Harry and Draco. It will be… _fun_. Consider it like that infernal muggle game 20 Questions."

Sirius looked up, masking his fear with triumph. "20 Questions? Now I know Dumbledore was right about you being a half-blood. No pureblood would ever know what that is. You lying half-bl–" Sirius was knocked backward as Voldemort backhanded him.

"Quiet, blood traitor!" he ordered, eyes flashing in red rage. "I have no need to justify my blood purity to the likes of you!" Voldemort suddenly turned to Lucas, who stared evenly back at him, a low, almost un-hearable, growl rumbling in the back of his throat. An animal smirk slid onto the wizard's face, and he reached down to pull Lucas up by the neck. A bruise began to form immediately under the cruel grip.

Lucas grunted in pain as he found himself staring into soulless red eyes. Lucas spoke before he could stop himself. "What color were your eyes before you turned dark?"

Voldemort's eyes widened in pure surprise before narrowing again in anger as he flung Lucas back onto the ground. Lucas gasped as his shoulder hit the floor, no doubt earning him another bruise; but the werewolf could only wonder exactly when those eyes had gone from an innocent young child's eyes to an evil being's eyes. Voldemort held his wand out in front of Lucas, a cruel smirk once more on his face.

"Now let's see what the pathetic little werewolf has to say about our other little guests." Behind him, the death eaters seemed to lean forward in anticipation.

Draco walked down the hallway angrily, arguing with himself.

He's going to die.

Why should you care? It's just Potter.

But he's still going to get himself killed. And when he does, Voldemort's going to be pretty angry that you killed his favorite pet snake, which also happens to have held part of his soul. Oh, that's right; that's why I care.

But why are you so sure he's going to die? He's Potter; he never dies no matter how much dangerous crap he goes through. Maybe I should just trust him and hang in for the ride. I'm already pretty screwed as it is… Great, now I'm starting to sound like a Gryffindor.

Draco stopped and stared down at his hands, wondering just when he'd become so… so caring. Ugh. He was spending way too much time with Potter. Draco shook his head and kept walking, ignoring the strange looks the few death eaters remaining in the halls were giving him. He stopped in front of the large double doors that opened into the meeting room. Heaving a long-suffering sigh and hoping he wasn't so late that Voldemort was going to torture him, Draco pushed open the door.

Draco blinked. He suddenly found himself being faced by more than a dozen different wands, all held by various death eaters. In the middle of the room, Voldemort sat on his throne, looking extremely smug – or, as smug as someone without a nose or eyebrows could.

"Draco," the dark lord drawled. "Why don't you step in for a visit?" It wasn't a suggestion.

Draco's eyes scanned the room, glancing over Sirius, Remus, and Lucas, who were tied up with chains in the corner. Lucas was unconscious, seemingly knocked out by Voldemort's torture. "…Surrounded by idiots," Draco muttered under his breath before taking off his mask. Voldemort stood up and slinked over to where Draco was standing. "I apologize for my tardiness, my Dark Lord," Draco drawled, eyes firmly on the wall, his body posture decidedly relaxed and unforced. To any who didn't know better, he would seem the epitome of calm.

"And why were you so late, Malfoy?"

"I was simply feeding you snake Nagini, and I lost track of time while I was admiring her beauty." Draco's voice remained serious, though his eyes flashed mockingly.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "And where is Nagini?" His voice lost its seductive edge, becoming harsh and venomous.

Draco didn't even blink. "She didn't seem to be feeling well. It must have been something she ate." Draco turned his head to meet the gaze of Voldemort.

Voldemort glared at Draco murderously as he pointed his wand at the young wizard. Draco tried to maintain his calm posture as he felt Voldemort's mind reach out and touch his. Draco quickly tried to pull his mind back in panic, but the weight of Voldemort's mind pressed on him, crushing him.

Draco gasped and fell to his knees as Voldemort forced entry into his mind. He couldn't help the low keen of pain that exited his mouth as Voldemort began to roughly sift through his thoughts and memories. He clutched at his head, fighting to expel Voldemort's invading force form his mind.

Sensing no chance of getting rid of the foreign force, he instead tried to protect some of his memories. With Voldemort's power stretched throughout Draco's entire mind, intertwined with his memories, Draco was able to save a few key memories of Harry and his mission. Through the searing pain, Draco vaguely sensed a sort of emptiness in Voldemort's mind, as if it was riddled with holes like Swiss cheese

Draco hesitated slightly before reaching outwards with his consciousness towards one of the holes. Darkness engulfed him, and he pulled back with a cry, even as memories flooded into his mind.

_Pain. Ripping, tearing, splitting pain. A loss of self. Torn in half. And then into quarters. And into pieces of six. A fire burning from the inside out. Death, tainting life. Destroying. Losing humanity. Emptiness. Nothing._

Draco screamed, the pain echoing throughout his mind. He shuddered and convulsed as an ache racked his body. And as the torture became too much for his mind to bear, Voldemort was forced to withdraw his own mind as the pain began to affect him too. Immediately, the pain stopped, and Draco stilled. Voldemort reeled back, clutching his head.

The death eaters froze, unsure of how to respond, until Bellatrix ran forward. "My Lord, My Lord!"

How mentally taxing that experience had been for Voldemort and how disoriented he was showed in the fact that he allowed Bellatrix to touch him, if only for a moment. For that moment, Voldemort almost believed he was back in the past, back in a time where people were unafraid to and willing to touch him – all the way back to that brief time in Hogwarts before he'd decided to rule over them all.

But then, awareness of his surroundings returned, and the moment ended. Voldemort pulled back, causing Bellatrix to fall back with a muffled gasp of pain as he backhanded her across the face. Instead of darkening in anger, her gaze only brightened – this was the dark lord Bellatrix knew, cold and cruel, _her_ dark lord. With a satisfied and adoring smile, she pulled herself to her feet and stood behind Voldemort, lovingly caressing the already forming bruise on her cheek.

Voldemort didn't even notice her presence again as he moved forward and lifted Draco into the air via his wand. Draco cried out as an invisible pressure seemed to surround him, crushing him and adding further hurt to his already pain-riddled mind. Voldemort rotated Draco in the air until the Slytherin was face to face with him. With one hand, Voldemort beckoned roughly behind him.

"Lucius!"

The trembling death eater hesitantly moved forward, fearing what was to come if he obeyed, but fearing even more the retribution he would receive should he disobey. His mask sprang from his face, and he was dragged forward at a faster pace not of his own will. Voldemort turned his head to glare at the trembling blond now slumped at his feet. Draco was forced to keep his head up as Voldemort pulled his father up by the collar and turned him around, also, to face his son.

But Draco's eyes were blurry and unseeing, lost in the painful haze provided from Voldemort's excursion into his mind. Lucius tried to turn his head at the sight of Draco, but Voldemort forced him to stare right into his son's face.

"Do you see you son, Lucius? Do you see how he's betrayed me?" Voldemort's voice was deceptively soft and sugary, but an edge ran underneath, promising pain and death. "And somehow, I can't help but feel that the blame lies not only with him, but with you and your family."

Lucius started at that – no matter what the circumstance, Malfoy's always took pride in their family, their name. They were purebloods, some of the last; and nothing could be allowed to tarnish the name Malfoy. "N-no!" Lucius finally found his stuttering voice, indignant at the thought of Draco's failure and wrong choices shaming the Malfoy name. "I-I had no idea of what he planned. I raised him as a pureblood, loyal to the wizarding world and to you, my lord! His traitorous actions are of no fault of the Malfoy house. You cannot –"

"You do not decide what I can and cannot do." Voldemort's voice filled with venom and contempt. "And you do not decide what is and isn't your fault. I do. And I say that this boy is a blight on your family name. He has tarnished it, but so have you and your wife, allowing such a traitor to be born and raised in your household. His absconding is you fault, as well as his. Blood traitor."

Voldemort stared into Lucius' eyes as he said the last two words, and he seemed to take a twisted kind of pleasure out of the absolute panic, fear, and horror that showed plainly on Lucius' face. "No, my lord! Please don't, my lord! I-I can fix it! Cast him out of the family! Renounce him! Don't, my lord!"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed even more at the _don't_. "I told you that you don't give orders. And you no longer have the honor of calling me your lord." Voldemort pulled back and let Lucius collapse to the floor. "Perhaps I should just end you misery right now."

"N-no, my lord! My Dark Lord! Please don't. Anything but – I would rather be – my Lord! Ple –"

Voldemort cast a silencing spell on Lucius and glared at him coldly. "A true Slytherin, a true pureblood, would rather die. Coward, you're no better than a squib." Voldemort kicked Lucius to the side, knocking him out cold. And he turned his eyes back to Draco, viewing the boy in cold disdain. "And you, turning your back on Slytherin and pureblood principles alike, scurrying over to Potter's side. A coward, just like your father."

Draco, despite his half-conscious haze of pain, managed to catch one word. Coward.

Coward.

He'd heard that word far too many times before. But not anymore. Not now. "'M not coward," he mumbled through gritted teeth.

"What did you say, blood traitor?" Voldemort asked in a mocking voice.

"I'm not a coward! I may be a Slytherin; I may be a traitor; but I'm not a coward!" He looked around the room, making sure to make eye contact with everyone in the room – or at least as many people as he could without having to turn his head too much. "We all know I'm no longer one of you; you can't manipulate me any longer. And you can torture me however much you want, but I think you saw how that turned out."

Draco deliberately sent a smirk in Voldemort's direction against his better judgment, but the dark wizard merely stood still, regarding Draco as he would a bug. Draco continued with his voice hoarse. "I backed a Gryffindor, and I will own up to it. I'm not a coward," he repeated again. "Nothing I can say now will keep you from continuing to attempt to torture me and then kill me later once Potter arrives. Unless, of course, he kills you before you do."

It seemed as if Draco's eyes were sparkling with a morbid type of mirth. Voldemort, seeing that Draco was finished, threw the young wizard into a wall with a crack. Draco gasped softly in pain, and Voldemort stalked forward before stopping a foot away from Draco's fallen form. "The only reason I don't kill you now, blood traitor, is that I would like to give Potter the pleasure of watching."

Draco let out a shaky laugh, and his eyes widened slightly as he coughed up a splatter of blood, no doubt the result of being thrown into a wall. "Blood traitor is no longer an insult to me, _Voldemort_."

"_Crucio_."

That rage-filled word was the last thing Draco heard before passing into the blissful numbness of unconsciousness, a haughty smirk still on his lips.

Voldemort sat on his throne idly, radiating impatience that was growing by the second. The surrounding death eaters glanced between each other uneasily. Voldemort had been forced to stop torturing his prisoners; any more and they would have been dead before Potter arrived.

Lucius had been moved to another room to be finished off later when the dark lord next had an urge to torture, maim, or kill. But now, as death eaters did not engage in chit chat, the room was silent, and there was nothing to do but wait. And wait. And wait. They were waiting a long time.

The prisoners, off in their own corner, watched Voldemort's frustration visibly grow. Black merely rolled his eyes at the pureblood impatience, and the werewolf seemed merely to be trying not to draw too much attention to himself or the others. Lucas was still unconscious, but the Draco had woken, seeming to feel better than ever as he sent condescending and knowing smirks towards the death eaters. Draco seemed to be laughing at them for their paranoia. But just when they thought the fear that Voldemort might turn on them might come true,

*_Knock, knock_*

Everything stopped, Voldemort included. Was it Potter? After a moment, Voldemort motioned for the death eaters to open the door. No sooner had the door just begun to swing open that in skipped… Luna Lovegood.

"Hello, there," she smiled softly as she pranced into the room, gait lively and wand undrawn. No one seemed to know how to react. She arrived at the corner where Sirius, Remus, Lucas, and Draco were tied up; and she looked at the three contentedly. "Hello, how are you four?"

Sirius stared in outright disbelief. Remus raised an eyebrow. Draco just smirked.

"Oh, dear, you're bleeding." She pulled her wand out of a pocket in her robes and vanished the small stain of blood that was on the corner of Draco's mouth. Draco's eyes traveled down to where the blood had been. He looked back up at Luna. She smiled. He smirked. And beside them, Sirius and Remus couldn't help but feel as if some unholy alliance had just been formed.

Suddenly, Draco recoiled slightly as a burning hex shot past his face, scorching the wall. Luna didn't blink; she just turned her gaze over to Voldemort who was glaring at them both angrily, wand pointed at the five prisoners. –Well, three prisoners, one unconscious werewolf, and one unexpected… guest? …person? …whatever.

"Oh, I apologize." If it was at all possible, Luna's cheerful tone had taken on a thin, icy edge. "As you are lord of this castle, I should have asked your permission to visit with my friends. May I stay and wait for Harry with them?"

Voldemort stared at Luna, motionless, as if contemplating the enigma that was Luna, her sudden and subtle change in demeanor, and her words. After a few minutes, Voldemort finally lowered his wand and pointed his hand at two death eaters to his left, who jumped. "Tie her up. Once Potter gets here, she's dead."

Luna smiled, and the icy atmosphere that had seemed to leak into the room dissipated. "Thank you, but there's no need to bother. I'll just tie myself up." She flashed a smile at the room before sitting down on the floor next to Draco, brushing off her skirt, and pointing her wand at herself. A string of chains shot out of the wand, twisting around her, pulling her arms tight against her body. The chains then connected with the others,' tying the five together. She released the wand from the hand tied up against her thigh.

Draco raised an eyebrow, as if to inquire as to where she'd learned a spell like that. Luna just smiled benignly.

One of the death eaters picked up her wand and stashed it away in his robes. Voldemort turned his attention back to the door, seeming to have decided to ignore Luna in favor of waiting for Harry to arrive.

Sirius seemed to be asleep, apparently having decided nothing was happening that was worth the effort of staying awake. Remus' gaze was still darting around the room, occasionally landing on Sirius in disapproval. Lucas seemed to be coming to, and he stared around the room confusedly from under heavy-lidded eyes. Remus winced in sympathy, and Luna offered him a sweet smile. Lucas still looked completely out of it, having actually been out of it for several hours, completely missing a lot that had happened.

Draco had resumed his full, haughty posture, still looking at the death eaters smugly and knowingly. He seemed to have regained confidence in himself thanks to Luna wiping the blood off his face, restoring his regal appearance. And Luna just sat there, dreamy smile on her face, humming slightly despite being tied up.

And that was that.

Boom!

A blast from a wand caused the door to burst open, splintering in the process and causing the death eaters to draw back in fright. Sirius woke up with a violent start; Remus jumped; Lucas flinched; and Draco looked startled briefly before resuming his bored stare at the death eater. Luna giggled.

Voldemort, though, didn't flinch; it seemed as if he'd been contemplating the door and Harry coming so long that he was mentally prepared. –Or frustrated beyond belief with Harry's lateness. "Why did you have to destroy my door? It was my favorite door."

Perhaps he had been trying to sound imposing and display his irritation at the same time, but it just came off as rather whiny. Harry stood his ground easily, posture confident.

"I think your repertoire of insults need updating."

Voldemort grinned cruelly and gestured around the room. "I do not believe you are in the position to be making suggestions, brat."

Harry's eyes roved the room before landing on the five in the corner. His eyes returned to Voldemort. "What are you doing with them?"

Voldemort laughed, and Lucas suppressed a shudder. "Why, entertaining them, of course."

Harry's eyes traveled back to the five and remained on Lucas and Sirius. They both sighed; Harry was probably staring at the bruises on the two, including Sirius' black eye. Luna smiled encouragingly at Harry, but the slight tremble that went through her body did not go unnoticed by Draco, who, in a rare moment of compassion, scooted closer to her in reassurance. But he also kept his head held high, viewing the situation with an indifference and haughtiness he did not feel.

"Ok, look," Harry began, looking nervous. You could practically see his mind racing with what was probably thousands of scenarios, actions, and reactions – most of which probably ended with Lucas, Luna, Remus, Sirius, and Draco dead.

Draco snorted at the panic in Harry's eyes for the five, even as it reassured him that the Boy-Who-Lived still considered the Slytherin an ally – or, as Harry would probably put it, a _friend_. …Idiotic Gryffindor.

Sirius seemed to be in a panic himself, struggling to find a way to reassure his godson and help him, even as he was the one chained up, silenced, and injured. Remus was doing his best to stay completely calm and keep a straight face, while simultaneously shooting Sirius quelling looks. Luna was now looking at Harry with some concern in her gaze, but she continued to smile at him encouragingly, compassion and affection in her gaze.

"Are you going to stand there and monologue, evilly mapping out your malicious desires, or can we get this over with?"

Voldemort pulled out his wand. "A man of action, I see, Potter. Just like your father. And – lucky you – you get to die like him as well."

Harry's face turned furious, and he looked as if he would like nothing more than to mutilate the dark wizard.

"Oh, yes," Remus and Lucas flinched when Voldemort turned to them; Sirius glared; Draco sneered; and Luna… winked. "But before you die like your dog of a father, perhaps I should give you a chance to venture into the past a bit – more specifically, your mother's past."

Voldemort's wand pressed up against Sirius' throat, and the wizard shook slightly with a mixture of anger, hate, and tension. "I wonder how she felt, watching her husband die, knowing she couldn't save her son." Voldemort stepped and aimed his wand at Sirius, and, if anything, Sirius grew more nervous. "Well you'll find out exactly how she felt soon enough, now won't you? Ave–"

Sirius shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to face the sickly green light that would cause his demise. But he couldn't help, in his human curiosity and fear, but open them just before the spell hit – only to see Harry jump in front of him. His eyes widened in horror, and a loud scream ripped its way out of his throat.

The smile on Voldemort's face twisted and grew. "–da Kadavera!"

And the green light of the spell hit home.

**So…uh, hi…um…awkward. Ok, look, I apologize profusely, both for the horrendous amount of time since my last update and for the lack of plot development. I especially apologize to anyone who I told I would be getting out the chapter sooner than I did – I sincerely did mean to get it out then, but it just didn't work that way. Now, for the plot development, I feel that this was an important chapter for things that will come later, even if nothing truly new happened. It… sets the stage, if you will, for future happenings. And don't worry, in the next chapter, the plot will be furthered.**

**Ahh, the next chapter. Well, okay, the reason I took so long in getting out this chapter is 1/3 procrastination/laziness on my part and 2/3 writer's block. Ahh, writer's block. I'd never really had it before now, but now I know it's a jerk. I kept trying to write this chapter, but nothing seemed to be working; I was writing, like, a paragraph a day. It felt like I was forcing the words out. So I would appreciate any advice on this chapter, as I feel that some parts don't flow as well as they could.**

**I also ask advice on writer's block. How do you beat it? I tried everything I could, but it still took forever to write this chapter. And, unfortunately, I still have writer's block at least somewhat, so help would be very welcome. I would also love any ideas anyone has on the next few chapters to the ending, as that may help my writer's block as well. Oh, and pointing out any grammar/spelling mistakes would be wonderful, too.**

**I have another question for you, readers. As I have said before, I wish to fix all of the spelling and grammatical errors in this story and repost it. However, I also have some plot holes I want to fix – namely in the first chapter with how Harry got sent to Azkaban. I know how I want to fix it, but that would create problems for the rest of the chapters, as I would have to change plot in later chapters. So, unless I repost all of the chapters at the same time, new readers would get confused with later chapters. Or I could just post this story again as a completely new story with extremely similar and sometimes identical but not exactly the same plot. **

**Advice? What should I do? Unfortunately, I am still somewhat a noob here on Fnet, so I would appreciate it. So, here's the sparks notes version of this author's note (it feels like all my author's notes are extremely long):**

**Sorry for the wait**

**Please don't complain about the lack of plot development; not every single chapter can be filled with plot furthering stuff – we do need filler chapters.**

**Feel free to complain about the wait. I would complain about the wait. Just please be civil. **

**Advice and input on the issues stated above, please? I really need it. **

**Thanks to all reviewers.**

**Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner, but no promises other than not to put it on hiatus or abandon it.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Witty comments aside, I do not own Harry Potter. Do not believe otherwise.**

Some people say that when a horrible event occurs, time seems to slow down, seems to move at a minute a second. If anything, this situation seemed exactly the opposite.

As soon as Harry's body hit the ground, time appeared to begin to move faster and faster. The five in the corner found themselves unable to concentrate on what was happening. Draco stared mutely at the floor, shell-shocked. Sirius was howling in grief, tears running freely down his face, as he tried to fight to get to his godson's body. Remus was pale, his eyes full of grief. He moved closer to Sirius, mumbling words that even he didn't know the meaning of, the only thought in his head that Harry wouldn't want Sirius to get himself killed.

Luna simply watched Harry's body, as if unsure what to do, knowing Harry was dead and yet somehow also knowing he… wasn't? He couldn't be. He'd already survived death once before; he could survive again, of that Luna was sure. She looked up, a flash of anger in her eyes that was unaccustomed on the face of the happy Ravenclaw.

Even though it felt as if time had raced by, little more than a few seconds had gone; and Voldemort was still staring at Harry's body in what seemed to be dumb-founded surprise. But then he raised his arms in elated joy. "Potter is dead!" And he smiled his twisted, cruel smile, as the death eaters around him let out cheers.

But Voldemort looked around, mid-gloat, and paused as his eyes met Luna's. She gazed at him with a type of knowing in her eyes that infuriated the dark lord for a reason he didn't know. He strode forward and dragged Luna brutally by her hair. The young witch didn't even flinch, her stony gaze silently staring at Voldemort with a cold intensity that only served to further exacerbate the malicious wizard.

"What are you staring at, blood traitor?" he growled. "Your champion is dead; and now, so are you. You should be begging for your life."

Luna blinked. "But Harry wouldn't want me to beg," she replied smoothly before continuing, "And how do you know he's dead?"

Voldemort peered at her uncomprehendingly. One of the death eaters in the room cried out despite his fear of punishment, "He was hit by the killing curse! There's no way he could have survived!"

Voldemort nodded, even as the memory of Harry's survival as a toddler flooded into his mind - in his preoccupation, not even bothering to torture the insolent death eater.

Luna, meanwhile, was glancing between Voldemort and Harry with an unending curiosity. "Are you saying that you can tell when someone has died? Is that a side effect of making too many horcruxes? Is it just the way the killing curse works? Does it form a sort of connection with the one you use the curse against that's severed as soon as they pass on? That would explain quite a bit about Harry's scar…" Luna drifted off into contemplative silence as she waited for Voldemort to answer.

Voldemort focused down at her, a myriad of emotions passing over his face from surprise to fury to acrimony and then settling on disgust. He threw Luna to the ground harshly before turning to his death eaters with murderous intent in his eyes. "Check him," he ordered. The death eater hesitated, and Voldemort casually _crucio-_ed him with a flick of his wand.

He turned to the next death eater closest to him, who took in the sight of his writhing companion with horror. "You. _Check him_." His voice was cold as ice, and this death eater didn't hesitate as the one before him had. The death eater knelt down next to Harry's body, pressing a finger to the fallen hero's neck to check for a pulse.

Even in his shock at Harry dropping dead, Draco couldn't help but sneer in disgust at the action. '_Half-blood_.'

The death eater stood up, a blindingly relieved smile spread across his face. "Dead, my Lord."

A small expression of relief flickered over Voldemort's nose-less face, almost too quick and too foreign on him to be recognized by those gathered. The death eaters began to celebrate again, and Sirius slumped over in desolation, cursing himself for the slight hope he'd had that Harry might have survived. Remus sat right next to the broken godfather, supporting him, even as a low keen of pain escaped the werewolf's throat. Now, Draco grimaced in anger and, perhaps, regret, but most certainly in fear of what would happen next. Lucas couldn't help growling, subdued but feral, as he attempted to comprehend the thought of Harry being dead and what that meant for his clan. Luna looked over at Harry's body, silent.

A maniacal glint shone in Voldemort's eyes as he studied Luna, who lay on the floor by his feet. Once more, she didn't react, even as his foot connected with her side, kicking her over. "_Crucio_."

Luna remained quiet, even as her body twitched and flailed, before losing her control and letting loose a high-pitched scream. This continued for several minutes until Luna passed out. Voldemort tortured her still, though; and her body continued to flinch and spasm under the barrage of pain the _crucio_ spell dealt to her body.

Even the death eaters looked at each other uneasily and queasily at the display of sickening cruelty. Finally, unable to watch any longer, Sirius lunged forward in a restricted motion to knock down the death eater next to him. He managed, if only barely; and the stolen wands rolled out of the wizard's roes. Voldemort ended the spell and found himself staring down at Sirius Black, who had used the wand to wordlessly unchain himself and was now pointing said wand straight at the dark lord.

Voldemort let out a high, heartless laugh and moved to the side to dodge the spell Sirius sent his way. With a flash, Sirius found himself disarmed and thrown against the wall. With another flash, he found himself bleeding from two cutting hexes, one on his shoulder and the other on his abdomen, but neither very deep. Two more appeared, on his right arm and hip, this time deeper.

Sirius let out a cry of torment, and a slow smile formed on Voldemort's face. "Oh, so you don't like me torturing the Lovegood girl, do you, traitor?" The smile dropped off his face completely. "Now that Potter's dead, you'd like to play the hero?" Sirius attempted to push himself up off the wall and launch himself at Voldemort.

"No, no," Voldemort purred, catching the animagus in the air mid-lunge. "Someone just can't seem to comprehend the fact that his precious godson is _dead_. And he won't be coming back - no survival, no miraculous return from the brink of death. He's gone, and your world will bow to my will."

Voldemort let Sirius drop to the floor in a disheveled and bruised heap. "But, unfortunately, you won't be here to see the wizarding world rise to its peak under my rule. I wouldn't worry, though; you'll be far too busy catching up with Harry and his parents to miss much." Voldemort raised his wand and, for the second time that day, prepared to use the killing curse on Sirius Black. But before Voldemort could even open his mouth to utter the words, something rose up behind him; and the sleek, cool wooden tip of a wand pressed up against his neck.

"Actually, he can catch up with me fine right here."

Voldemort's eyes widened, and gasps rose up around him. He was moved to the side by the wand's guiding force before he whirled around in a somewhat drunken, fury-driven circle and stared into cold emerald eyes.

"So sorry I had to step out for a while. Miss me?"

If it were possible to spontaneously combust out of pure rage, Voldemort, at that moment, would have.

Harry blinked. He was lying face down on the floor. He resisted the urge to jump up off the dirty ground that still smelled slightly of blood from some poor person Voldemort had tortured earlier, and he instead crinkled his nose in disgust. He did not move, though his eyes roved around the room.

Not that anyone would have noticed right away that he was awake, even if he had moved, because all the eyes in the room were on Voldemort. Harry couldn't see his friends, who were blocked by Lord Voldemort, who was ranting about something or other. Harry ignored it in favor of focusing on the moment – more specifically, on not itching.

Yeah.

Apparently, being brought back to life itched. A lot. And Dave hadn't told him.

Harry flinched as his back spasmed in an urge to be scratched, and he made a mental note to get revenge on Dave later. …After freeing the enslaved dementor lord and his subjects. Darnit, the dementor would be too high on his own freedom to be bothered by anything Harry did for a while. Harry grinned and then flinched again as another prickle ran up his arm. He would just need to make his revenge long-winded, then.

"…_dead_." Harry tilted his head a tad over at Voldemort when the wizard emphasized that word. "And he won't be coming back - no survival, no miraculous return from the brink of death." Harry slowly and carefully lifted himself off the floor as Voldemort continued to speak, and the young protagonist silently crept forward. "He's gone, and your world will bow to my will."

Harry heard a dull thud, and he moved to the left just enough to peer around Voldemort's body and see a bloody Sirius fall to the ground next to the wall. But even more so, he moved to the left enough to see Luna. Harry's blood turned to ice as he took in her unconscious form, limp and bruised. She had obviously been flailing around and had not been restrained to keep her limbs from smacking against the hard stone floor. A faint smear of blood tainted her lips, painting them red and indicating she had some sort of internal bleeding.

Harry's hands trembled as he forced himself to move forward calmly, not wanting to lose control and kill the dark lord while his back was turned. Harry wasn't that kind of coward. The death eaters in the room finally began to notice Harry as he stepped closer to Voldemort, but they seemed unsure of whether or not they wanted to risk interrupting Voldemort's monologue to deliver the bad and unbelievable news. They shifted nervously, and as this drew Bellatrix's gaze over to Harry, the hero quickly stunned her before she could react. The death eaters seemed to take this as enough of an incentive to let Harry and Voldemort duke it out. After all, death eaters – the sane ones, at least – were nothing if not backstabbing.

"But unfortunately, you won't be here to see the wizarding world rise to its peak under my rule. But I wouldn't worry; you'll be far too busy catching up with Harry and his parents to miss much."

As Harry stopped just shy of Voldemort's back, he wondered how Voldemort had come to be the greatest dark lord of all time if he couldn't even tell when someone was behind him, especially since Harry was positively oozing murderous intent. He decided it must have been a lack of competition.

Voldemort raised his wand and aimed it directly at Sirius' heart. Harry smirked as he raised his own wand and pressed it into the exposed skin of Voldemort's neck. "Actually, he can catch up with me fine right here."

Around him, the death eaters gasped. Harry pushed the tip of the wand harder into Voldemort's neck and used it to move Voldemort to the side, freeing up vision of himself to his friends. Sirius, from his vantage point on the floor, just stared, completely believing that his being launched into the wall had thrown his mind into delusion. Harry felt a surge of sympathy for his godfather (at least in some sense, they had both denounced each other and hated each other for a while; but now that they were reconciled… well, whatever) even as Harry himself was about to knowingly take someone's life for the first time and therefore deserved a rather larger amount of sympathy.

The poor man had been blamed for his best friend's death, sent to Azkaban for twelve years, escaped, returned to find his godson in near constant peril, had been stuck up in Grimmauld Place for quite a while, had believed his godson was a murderer, and had watched him be sent to Azkaban himself (Harry was still peeved about this, though). He had found out his godson was innocent and that he had failed in his duty as a godfather and had gone against the only leader of the light – whom he had followed diligently for most of his life – for his godson. He had been captured and tortured, had watched his godson die, and now had to watch him come back to life. All this, and not to mention all of the worry and fear he'd been put through.

In some ways, the man almost deserved pity; Harry certainly agreed that his life kind of sucked. Despite his lingering anger at the man and the betrayal he still felt, Harry wasn't cold hearted enough not to feel bad. Harry flashed Sirius a quick smile that made the animagus flinch. The haunted gaze in his eyes made it clear that the wizard believed he was being punished by the ghost of his godson for having failed him so miserably in life.

Remus was looking at Harry in an open-faced mixture of joy and disbelief. He, too, had failed Harry; but not in nearly so severe and damaging a way as Sirius had. Though, Juan had pointed out that he should have at least checked up on Harry as a child. So the werewolf was much more open to believing that Harry had survived once again, having never experienced the deliriums and phantoms that Azkaban provided. And yet, Harry still felt a sense of warmth for the older wizard, despite his sharp disappointment with the werewolf and the whole lot of the wizarding world that was still ever present.

Lucas had given up all pretext of being surprised by Harry's actions – for all he knew, returning from the dead was a regularly occurring thing for him; he'd already done it once before – and was instead watching the happenings with steely eyes. Draco was paler than usual, but as he'd already seen Harry escape death so many times, he was able to watch the proceedings calculatingly.

Voldemort whirled around to glare at Harry in a startled way. Harry took a deep, steady breath, acutely aware of all the eyes on him, and said with as much bravado as physically possible, "So sorry I had to step out for a while. Miss me?" Harry felt a perverse sort of enjoyment as he watched Voldemort's face turn several different shades of red.

Finally, he seemed to gain control of his mouth and hissed, "How are you alive, Potter?"

Harry smiled. "I think a better question would be 'why are you alive?'"

Voldemort recovered enough to say, "Fine, brat, _why_ are you alive?" He was obviously still stunned if he was letting Harry order him around.

"To kill you."

Voldemort let out a somewhat fake laugh. "If you truly think you can, pest," he said in a condescending manner.

Harry snorted. "Please, we've already proven that you are completely incapable of killing me, so now it's my turn to try. And I won't fail like you have, Tommy-boy."

Voldemort's eyes flashed in anger. "I cannot be killed, Potter. You're wasting your time, and it's pathetic that after all these years you still try to defeat me.

"Really? _Really_?" Harry asked disbelievingly, realizing that Voldemort truly thought that. He'd spent so long twisting others minds to make them believe he was invincible that, over the years, Voldemort had fallen prey to the same dangerous pride that had allowed him to take control over a large part of the wizarding world. The idea that you could not ever lose, that what your life was wouldn't, couldn't be destroyed; something the wizarding world of old had, as a whole, experienced and that so many present-day ministry officials, and now Voldemort, also shared.

Harry continued with renewed vehemence, "You've been trying to kill me since a few months before I was born. I didn't even start 'trying' to defeat you personally until around fourth year, really. Before that, I was just trying to get by when you started unsuccessfully attacking me and successfully complicating my life. So, really, I've only been trying to kill you for around six years."

"But unlike you, I've succeeded at killing you, Potter," Voldemort countered, seeming to grow angrier and more frustrated by the second. No one around them had any idea what the heck was going on and why no one had killed the other yet.

Draco was just shaking his head in a contemptuous manner, muttering under his breath about "stupid Gryffindor mentalities" and "why didn't you just kill him when his back was turned?" and "getting into a verbal sparring match with the darkest lord of all time."

Harry ignored the quite audible young wizard and smirked. "You've already died seven times before; the only difference is that this time, you'll die completely."

Voldemort's eyes widened at the obtuse reference to his horcruxes, and he stepped back to point his wand straight at Harry's heart. Harry let him, but kept his own wand held tightly in his hands. "I can't die, Potter," Voldemort snarled, as if to convince everyone watching of the truth of his words, "But you will. Avada Kadavera!"

Harry shifted to the side to avoid the stream of green light shot at his chest. It was followed by another, which Harry dodged by moving to the side again. "You'd think that, since you're a 'dark lord' and everything, you'd know a few more spells than just the killing curse and _crucio_," Harry taunted as he dodged another of the green-lighted curses.

He didn't quite know why he was delaying. Maybe he just didn't want to end this pattern of fighting that his life had fallen into. Maybe he just didn't want to kill another human – no matter how little humanity was left in that being. Harry dodged another curse from the infuriated Voldemort by ducking down to the side, before taking a deep breath.

Calmly lifting up his arm, which trembled slightly, Harry began to utter his two least favorite words in the world. "Ava–" Harry stopped and paused.

"What, Potter, too much of a coward to use it?" Voldemort laughed, sending another killing curse at Harry's body. But his breath was beginning to come in shorter and shorter gasps and his killing curses at longer and longer intervals. The power used behind the spells was taking its toll on him, as his face had paled; and the menacing glare he directed at Harry suddenly seemed tired and lackluster. "Can't stand to use the same spell that killed you weakling parents? They deserved a gutless son like you."

Harry's mind froze. His body moved in a numb trance-like state as he picked himself out of the crouch he'd fallen into while evading Voldemort's attack. Before he could even register what was happening, his wand was raised, and his lips formed the words, "_Deprimo_," for a curse that blasts a hole through the target. Harry's eyes widened as the curse met Voldemort's in midair, and both spells paused.

It was as if both had mysteriously run up against an extremel, thin, invisible barrier. Whether it was the intent behind his spell or the that fact that he'd spent the last three years struggling to use spells against the magic-repelling dementors, Harry did not know; but his spell cut through the green light of the killing curse and shot into Voldemort's wand. Nothing happened. Everyone stayed paused for several minutes, and still, nothing happened. Harry glanced from his wand to Voldemort's wand in confusion and a disheartened spirit.

Voldemort looked down at his own wand, and a gloating smile overtook his face. "Nice try, Potter, but you've failed." He laughed manically, but Harry was so disconcerted as to what had happened and disappointed at the result that he didn't even call the dark wizard on being a cliché.

Voldemort raised his wand again, and Harry pulled his own up again in response; but before either of the two could even open their mouths again, Voldemort's wand cracked. Right down the middle. There wasn't even a noise made as the wand fell into two pieces, revealing the phoenix core underneath the sleek wood. And as the wand broke in half, a tremor of magical backlash ran up Voldemort's arm and into his body and, upon hitting his magical core, pushed such a rush of magic through his system that froze his core – permanently.

The was no great explosion, no loud crack, no burst of light, and no hundreds of munchkins jumping out of random crevices in the room to sing "ding dong, the witch is dead!" To the outward beholder, all that would be seen was a slight widening of Voldemort's eyes, and all that would be heard would be a dull thud as Voldemort's body crashed to the floor, dead – permanently.

But Harry wasn't an outward beholder, and he knew – he knew with sickening clarity – that Voldemort was dead because of his spell, because of him.

Silence reigned as the inhabitants of the room stared in shock at the fallen dark wizard – the death eaters as if willing him to get back up, the captives as if that body held the key to all happiness in life (or, in Sirius' case, all that and a bottle of firewhiskey), and Harry in a contemplative mixture of horror and relief.

Harry crouched down next to Voldemort's body and, with a trembling arm, shut the dark lord's eyelid, giving him – in death – some of the respect that he had craved in life.

A sense of numbness invaded him as he sat huddled there, next to a body that was drained of life, drained of life by his hand, Harry's hand. He had done the worst thing any one person could do; he had stolen the life of another. Regardless of how many lives Voldemort himself had taken, Harry felt a wave of disgust and anguish wash over him; and, for a second, he was forced to resist the urge to scream.

Harry had stolen something from Voldemort, something irreplaceable; and in doing so, something precious had been stolen from him as well.

He wanted to scream at everyone gathered there, at everyone who had been telling him what to do in his life, at the wizarding world in general. No one had told him how horrible it would feel to kill Voldemort! No one had told him how dirty he'd feel or how much he'd hate himself for doing just what he'd been told his entire life to do!

And then… the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and Harry could only feel relief. He would later chalk his fluctuating emotions up to the draining of his magic resulting from fighting Voldemort as, suddenly, Harry felt completely and utterly exhausted.

He swayed back on his feet only to be steadied by a pair of strong arms, which lifted him up and out of his crouch by Voldemort's side and carried him back a few steps. Harry glanced up in dull surprise to see Sirius' beaming face.

"You did it, pup," Sirius said softly, pride shining on his face, turning Harry around to pull him into a tight hug. Harry smiled and, for the first time in years, relaxed into his godfather's hold. And then he found himself gently removed from a protesting Sirius's arms and pulled into Remus's.

The two spent the next few minutes fussing over Harry, patting him down for injuries, touching him just to make sure he was alive, and murmuring soft reassurances to him that seemed more to be reassurances to themselves than they were to him.

Harry contentedly allowed himself to be fawned over, ignoring any thoughts as to what would happen next; where Draco, Luna, and Lucas were; and just how they'd escaped from their chains; instead just basking in knowing that it was over. But then his eyes opened.

"Huh?" He jumped back into Sirius' chest in surprise as he found himself staring into Luna's eyes. "Luna!"

"Harry," she smiled, and Harry pulled himself out of Sirius and Remus' grips to grab Luna in a hug, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. "Are you alright?" Luna stared up at Harry seriously, concern in her gaze.

Harry smiled tenderly. "I'm fine. Or, I will be, once I have a chance to grab some sleep."

Luna nodded earnestly and pulled Harry down so that she could kiss both of his cheeks. "And I'll cook you some of daddy's famous Freshwater Plimpies soup in case you are hungry when you wake up."

Harry beamed down at her before bringing his attention up in a rush. Draco and Lucas stood by the corner, both still looking unsure if what had just happened had really just happened. The death eaters had all vacated the room in panic, except for Bellatrix, who sat on the floor, unconscious and tied up by the chains that had been holding Harry's companions just minutes before.

Harry scanned the room hungrily, though, disappointed and worried by what he saw. He felt his pulse quicken and removed himself from Luna's arms to move forward into the center of the room.

What about the dementors?

There was no sign of them anywhere. Harry glanced down at his hands, checking them over curiously and critically. He didn't feel any different; did he truly have control over the demento–

Suddenly, Harry felt a hurricane-like volume of magic swirl up around him and rush into his body in a surreal manner. Harry nearly fell down to the ground and was caught once more by Sirius as the magic overloaded his senses, and he lost his perception of up and down. And then, Harry could feel them, all of the dementors.

Every one of their presences filled his mind, and he knew without a doubt that he could make them do anything he wanted. Anything at all. He had absolute control over their lives, and Harry felt a rush of elation tear through him only to be followed immediately by fear and horror - both at the power and at the feeling it brought him.

And then, more than anything, Harry wanted them gone, out of his mind; wanted not to have this control, this power. If he couldn't get it out, he felt he might go insane from the built up pressure of the power and of their minds.

Harry gently pulled himself out of Sirius' once again frightened hold and drew himself up to his full height. Gritting his teeth, Harry forcefully shouted, "_Solvo meus mancipium, irretitus in despero left ut putesco pro enternity in suum disfigurement._ _Solvo meus mancipium, irretitus in despero left ut putesco pro enternity in suum disfigurement_!"

And for one long moment, nothing changed. Harry was still in possession of the power, that horrible power, and he felt as if he would go mad with the absolute… _need_ to control the dementors it gave him, pushing him to command them and force them to bend to his will. He hoped to his very core that it was just another magical build up causing the delay from the sheer force of them magic behind the spell, same as the delay that had resulted before he gained the power to control the dementors, as his magical had been forced to prepare to handle that much magic.

But finally, the spell controlling the dementors rose inside of him - slowly, almost petulantly - as if proving that it would leave on _its_ time and not his. It rushed out of him, overloading his body, and disintegrated in the air, leaving behind a strange sense of absence in the room.

Harry collapsed once more, feeling like a marionette jerked in every direction by magic's whims and desires. And even as Harry was crowded around in a small mob of concern, and he raised a hand up to soothe his now aching head, Harry felt the most genuine of all smiles stretch over his face; and a soft sigh of euphoria rolled from his lips. Now he truly had finished. Now he truly had accomplished something worthwhile.

"Harry! Harry! Don't pass out, Harry! Wake up!"

Harry opened one heavy-lidded eye and quirked an eyebrow at the panicked Sirius' face, which was shoved a mere few inches from his own. He seemed to have forgotten the idea of personal space in his concern. Harry's death had taken its toll on his godfather's nerves, and said godfather seemed to have taken Harry's soft sigh as warning that he was about to die again.

Harry resisted the urge to groan, knowing that would only make things worse for him. Now he was going to have to spend the next few days convincing his two sort-of-guardians that he wasn't going to spontaneously combust anytime soon. And then he was going to have to spend the next few months walking on eggshells so as not to injure himself or cause their hyper-protectiveness to flare up. '_Oh, no, a paper cut! Is that blood I see? Is it? He's going to bleed to death! Quick, call a healer! I'll go grab all the gauze and semi-absorbent materials in existence to smother the extreme bleeding as we wait!_'

Just as Harry opened his mouth to tiredly diffuse the situation, a voice cried out, "Harry!"

'_Augh, why can't people stop calling my name_?' He thought agitatedly, before recognition flooded his senses; and his head snapped up, all traces of his exhaustion momentarily gone. "Juan!"

**Ok, so, um, sorry about the wait. Life has been really, really crazy lately. Let's just say that one summer filled to the brim with tennis and then the start of a school year with tennis season, an AP class, and several honors classes doesn't leave much time for writing.**

**Honestly, though, this wouldn't have taken nearly so long if it hadn't been for my deep-seated hatred for typing. Seriously, it sucks.**

**Now, first of all, ATTENTION, ALL PEOPLE WHO SKIP A/N'S!**

**I really need you guys to either go on the poll on my page or respond here, but I am in serious need of input on how to repost this story. Should I just make it into a separate revised story, replace each chapter on this story one by one, or replace all the chapters in this one all at once? I am not done with all of the revisions, (not hardly) but there will be minor-to-medium plot changes. Nothing truly too substantial, though.**

**And, to all of my wonderful reviewers: I truly appreciate all of the reviews, and the only reason I don't respond to them anymore is because I am no longer allowed by fnet because I don't allow PMs. And before you ask, no, I can't allow them – it's one of the conditions for me even being allowed on this site in the first place. **

**But know that I truly adore all of you, I read each review, and I will attempt to address any major questions in the A/N of the next chapter.**

**Now, lastly, there will be around 3 more chapters, with an epilogue, and an alternate ending. This is actually part 1 of the original chapter 24, but my sister talked me into shortening it because she says it's easier to read in smaller increments (and for her to beta). But never fear, I actually have the second half (which I'll just go ahead and call chapter 25) finished and will post it as within the next week or so, as soon as my sister looks through it. **

**With love, Blueskyes101 **


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I dooooo noooootttt ooooowwwwnnnn!**

Harry's eyes widened as Juan passed through the wall, as large and unappealing to look at as ever; and yet somehow seeming more free than Harry had ever seen him. As his hood was drawn back, Harry could see an exultant grin covering his face. Harry had never seen a smile of that pure, intense emotion cross Juan's face at all in the past three years.

Harry pushed himself to his feet to meet the excited Juan, who glided across the floor… only to find himself facing not Juan, but the backs of Sirius and Remus. The two bristled angrily and radiated protective fury. This time, Harry did roll his eyes; the overprotective thing was already old.

"Stay away from Harry, you disgusting monster!" Sirius glared at Juan, not taking a moment to consider the fact that Juan had just called Harry's name in a language that he, Sirius, could understand. Remus just growled defensively.

In response to the insult, Juan's smile diminished largely in size but still managed to take on an amused tone. "Hey, insulting. No name calling, please."

Harry heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, wincing as it caught on some of the clumps that had fused together in the sweat that had been pouring off him earlier. Apparently, dying was a strenuous activity that involved sweating. Harry made a mental note to take a shower soon; he was sure he didn't smell good at all. "I apologize for my ignorant godfather," Harry sighed again.

Juan grinned in a way that was remarkably cat-like for a dementor and raised one gaunt hand to salute Harry. "No, prob, Harry. But just to be sure, he does realize I'm a dementor, right? Not to be mistaken for some other sort of _ordinary_ monster – like a werewolf," pointed stare at Remus who started at the word, "or vampire."

"A least our vampires don't sparkle," Harry muttered under his breath, despite his exasperated appearance. Juan, as per usual, ignored him. It seemed becoming his own person – dementor – had not changed Juan quite that much.

Oblivious to all that surrounded him, Juan continued dramatically, "Dementors are far scarier and more threatening than ordinary mon– ow! Cindy!" Juan rubbed the back of his head, mourning the sore spot Cindy had left there when she'd slapped him.

Behind Juan, Cindy grinned, looking more relaxed than Harry had ever seen her. "Oh, shut up, Juan, and stop trying to scare the wizards." She spoke softly, almost with reverence, as if basking in the feeling of speaking in an understandable tongue.

In front of Harry, Sirius seemed unsure of whether or not to be happy Harry had called him his godfather, worried Harry had spoken to a dementor, nervous at the arrival of a second dementor, or freaked out by the fact that both dementors had spoken back in a coherent language. He settled for remaining in front of Harry and adopting a considerably unbalanced look. Beside him, Remus just shifted in confusion, still blocking the path to Harry. Juan took another gliding step forward, and both Sirius and Remus stiffened even further.

Harry glared at the two half-heartedly and was about to move them out of the way when Luna's voice rang out from behind his ear. "Let me, Harry."

Harry turned to look at Luna, who smiled brightly, and took a step back to allow her access to Sirius and Remus, both of whom had their attention solely focused on Juan and Cindy and therefore failed to notice. Harry took advantage of the small reprieve from their close proximity to glance back at Lucas and Draco.

Lucas appeared to be slightly wary but otherwise relaxed and just watching the scene unfold. After all, the guy who was going to save his clan and who had just defeated Voldemort hugged dementors… right? Ok, even he didn't understand what he meant by that; but he was still just struggling to make sense of the entire situation. Better to just relax and go with the flow.

Draco seemed slightly weirded out by the appearance of the dementors but, having become already accustomed to all the weird crap and creatures that happened around Harry, did not seem too upset. In fact, he, in true Slytherin fashion, appeared to have decided that since Harry wasn't freaked out by the dementors, then he, Draco, shouldn't be and that they were potential allies. And then, proving his well-being, Draco caught Harry's gaze and sniffed. "You smell like death, Potter," he griped.

"Harry," the Boy-Who-Lived corrected, a large smile on his face. At least one person could be counted on to not treat him any differently – even after he'd just risen from the dead.

Draco just made a vague, dismissive noise and turned to stare at the body of Voldemort, as if marveling in and relishing the fact that he was finally gone.

Harry turned his attention back to Luna, who in turn had her attention on Sirius and Remus, who, having their attention on Juan and Cindy, did not notice her. "Ow!" the two both yelped and cringed as Luna placed a sharp slap on each of their necks.

"Juan's a friend," Luna stated. "And so's the other dementor with him."

"Cindy," supplied the she-mentor.

"Cindy," Luna finished, eyeing both Sirius and Remus dangerously until they backed down and moved apart, allowing Harry access to his dementor friends. "It's lovely to meet you, Cindy," Luna continued. "And good to see you again as well, Juan," the atypical witch smiled.

Juan grinned brightly again and moved forward to catch Luna in a hug, which she happily returned. "Good to see you too, o' future sister of mine. And hey, I can finally touch you now!" Before Luan could start inspecting Juan's skin and body, taking odd little scientific notes on her findings, Harry stepped forward to intervene between the curious Ravenclaw and the excitable dementor.

"So… the spell worked? Completely? …No surprises or unexpected side effects?" Harry asked carefully despite the weight being gone from his mind and Juan hugging Luna – needing assurance after all that he'd been through. After all, he'd just died today, so it was pretty feasible that not much was as it seemed to be; and his mind could be playing tricks on him, despite how real everything seemed.

Juan rolled his eyes in response. "No, Harry, I'm just standing here, speaking plain English and giving your girlfriend a platonic hug just because it didn't work. Of course it worked." Juan stepped forward to ruffle Harry's hair, eliciting a disgruntled look from the young wizard, as well as two more yelps from Sirius and Remus when Luna had slapped their necks once more for stiffening up again.

Harry smiled and reached up his arms to encircle Juan, though they really only went partly around the dementor's waist, even with Harry stretched all the way up. "I'm glad you're free," Harry said softly.

Juan returned the awkward hug and laughed. "Course I'm free; you're Harry Potter. I mean, it's not like you might have – I don't know – mispronounced the incantation and transported us all to Antarctica. And then, of course, you wouldn't have gotten us stranded there for a week because, apparently, extreme cold warps dementor magic and you got pneumonia within, like, two hours and couldn't apparate us back to Azkaban and so we had to rely on locals to help us out – after we spent four days searching for them on a barren wasteland and then two more with you unconscious.

"And even then we had to get sent to the shore of the lake Azkaban's because of the magical wards covering the jail; and because of the fact that it took a few days for our magic to stop going wacky and you were still rather inept at dementor style magic, we had to swim all the way across to building. But, of course, that never happened. Because you're Harry Potter, and Harry Potter never ever makes a mistake."

Juan adopted an innocent expression and glued his eyes to the wall past Harry's head, a smirk tugging at his carefully neutral lips. Harry scowled and pulled out of Juan's arms, which had really been circling around the tops of his shoulder, as the dementor was so tall. "That only happened once, and you were the one who didn't think anything would happen since I hadn't… killed Voldemort yet." Harry paused slightly before finishing the sentence, his irrational guilt returning slightly.

A worried look flitted over Juan's face only to be plastered over by a smirk. He shrugged in the universal "whatever" gesture. "Ow!" Juan grabbed at his shoulder, where Cindy had swatted him.

"Quit teasing him, Juan; he's had an exhausting day. And we owe this freedom of ours to him." She pushed him gently to the side and reached forward to grab Harry in a hug, which he gladly returned. "Oh, Harry," her arms held him so tightly that Harry had to loosen her grip slightly. "Thank you so much. You did it. You did it! I'm so proud of you."

Harry smiled into her cloak before stepping back. "Thanks, Cindy."

Behind her, Juan coughed something into his cloak that sounded eerily like, "cliché." He immediately recoiled, as if expecting a slap; but Cindy didn't even glance back at him. He remained paused in a defensive position for a second before straightening up, a disgruntled look on his face, as if irritated that he hadn't been deemed important enough for a swat.

"What is going on?" Sirius' voice broke through the reunion, thick and worried – as well as confused and upset. Harry turned to look at the older wizard, taking in the pained looks on both his and Remus' faces.

Luna put her hands on her hips and frowned at the two, who stepped away from her nervously. "I told you that Juan's a friend."

Harry rubbed his scar exasperatedly. "Look, Juan is the male dementor with the smart-"

"-stupid-" corrected Cindy.

"-mouth, and Cindy is the female dementor currently hovering over me. They're family."

Neither Sirius nor Remus seemed to know how to respond to this, their faces having been drained of what little blood had remained in them. Lucas, however, piped up and asked the question, "How on earth are you related to dementors? …The wizarding world is so messed up."

Harry chuckled a little at the look on Lucas' face, a mixture of revulsion and curiosity. "Not Biologically."

"That would just be gross," Juan supplied rather unhelpfully.

"Shut it, Juan," Harry responded without looking behind him. "How do I say this without off as completely self-important?"

Draco snorted. "Potter,"

"Harry"

"Whatever. You just defeated the dark lord. Everything you do and say for the next five years will seem completely self-important."

"Yeah, but still…" Harry rubbed his scar uncertainly.

"Ugh!" Juan stepped forward and pushed Harry out of the way to be in front of Sirius and Remus. "Wimp." He smirked at Harry before turning his gaze over to Sirius and Remus. "Look, while Harry was at Azkaban," he paused to give a look to Sirius and Remus, who shifted guiltily. "He turned seventeen, which, as I'm sure you know, means he became an adult and came into his magical inheritance. Then, bada-bing bada-boom, turns out Harry's an heir of Slytherin! Little birthday present from Voldemort. Too bad Harry forgot to send him a thank you card. Still, happy birthday, Harry," Juan waved his hands sarcastically. "Glad _someone_ got him a gift."

Sirius and Remus squirmed in response to the depreciating glance Juan sent their way. Behind Juan, Harry chocked back laughter at Juan's retelling of his life story, while Cindy just looked faintly disapproving.

"So to put a quick summary to this long, rather boring–"

"Hey!" Harry cried indignantly.

"–story, Harry inherited the ability to understand us dementors. So Cindy and I," Juan jerked a thumb back at Cindy, who waved in response. "explained to your oh, so wonderful boy Harry that we dementors are under a curse! Not evil at all! Had you fooled, suckers! Nope, not evil; just got a lot of bad luck and a case of what you would consider the," Juan paused and glanced around, shifty eyed, before whispering, voice appalled, "_uglies_."

Then, Juan just shrugged. "Of course, you lot look pretty ugly to us. –Darn you, Harry, you're making me talk British– But anyways, I mean, come on. Have you seen yourselves in the mirror lately?"

"Wait, so you aren't originally bad?"

"Didn't I just say that? What, are you stupi–"

"No," Cindy cut in diplomatically, stopping the volatile Juan in his tracks. "Salazar decided he didn't like the way we looked, so he decided to make us slaves to his line."

The wizards and two werewolves looked faintly repulsed at the thought of such outright slavery. Luna reached forward to pat Juan's arm consolingly.

"Yeah," Juan continued. "So while he was making us watch over all of your murderers, he also decided to make us more… suited to the task. So, instead of sucking out negative emotions and making people feel good – which is what we actually do; yes, we _are_ that much awesomer than you–, we were forced to suck out positive emotions and make people feel, well, you know, bad. And on top of that, he made it so that just touching one of us inspires fear and despair in wizards and humans; one kiss, and we can suck out your soul. Whoopty-doo for us." Now Juan and Cindy both looked down, lost in bad memories.

"Wait," Lucas ventured another question, "just to be sure, you didn't originally make people feel horrible and lose their souls?"

"…Yep." Juan nodded his head.

"You made people… happy?"

"Yep."

"You're glorified therapists!" Draco exclaimed with slight disdain.

"I didn't think wizards had therapists," Lucas butted in.

"Not really," Remus replied. "Which really is something that should be fixed."

"Then how do you know about them, Draco?" Lucas asked curiously.

"Because he goes to one," Juan couldn't help saying.

Draco flushed angrily, and Sirius cackled with laughter, despite not quite knowing what a therapist was himself. "I have never been to that poor muggle excuse of a healer! We learned about them in muggle studies, just like we learned about you muggle aurors called 'lifeguards' – what an undignified name – and the professional torturers you call 'dentists.'"

Everyone stared at Draco. "Who in the name of Merlin was you muggle studies teacher?" Sirius asked, finally, in shock. "I mean, muggle aurors are called accountants, not lifeguards!"

Now everyone turned to stare at Sirius, except for Draco, who just sniffed haughtily and turned away. Juan looked over at Draco, a mischievous smile spread across his face. "He wasn't much of a student, was he? Must've been lacking in a certain cerebral department," Juan tapped his head pointedly at the last part of his statement.

Draco, apparently not knowing the definition of cerebral and taking Juan's insult in an entirely different and more degrading direction, advanced threatening towards Juan, newly recovered wand drawn. "Potter, I don't care if he's a dementor and your friend – if he doesn't shut his mouth, I'll hex it shut."

"You and what army?" Juan said. "Your magic doesn't even work on me."

Draco pulled back his arm to cast a spell, practically bristling in anger. "Well, let's see if _crucio_ works at on dementors."

Harry decided it was time to intervene. "Now, now, play nicely, children," he stepped between the two. "Draco, Juan didn't mean to insult you the way you think he did. Ignore his taunts; he's an idiot." Juan scoffed in an offended manner, and Harry sent him a despairing look. "I say that in the most (brotherly) loving way possible. Now stop being an instigator. And no, Draco wouldn't actually _crucio_ you, though I highly doubt it would work at all."

"Doesn't mean I can't try," Draco muttered, stuffing his wand back in his robes.

Juan stuck his tongue out at Draco from behind Harry. Draco's face twitched. Harry took a leaf out of Luna's book and reached up and slapped Juan, though he only reached the dementor's shoulder. "Ow! What's with all the slapping?"

"We're getting off topic," Harry said menacingly. "Continue. Now."

"Fine, sheesh." Juan rubbed his neck again, deciding that it would definitely be red in the morning and that, as retribution, he should change Harry's vision so that he only saw in shades of red for a few weeks. Resuming his now official role (with Harry's verbal consent, however indirect it was) as story teller, Juan continued.

"Anyways, so we became slaves to wizards, were turned into monsters, only the true heir of Slytherin could lift our curse, Harry would only be the true heir after Voldemort died, soooo we took care of Harry and trained him and now he saved us. The end." All of this was said in one breath. Juan grinned triumphantly, as if to say, 'Ha! How's that for an ending.'

They all stared at Juan in shock, except for Harry, who laughed, and Cindy, who groaned. "Are you capable of uttering a sentence that isn't twenty times too long or that's just short enough to confuse?"

Juan ignored her and looked around expectantly, waiting for a reaction. "Hey!" He clapped his hands twice, trying to wake the four wizards and one non-wizard/also-werewolf out of their semi-daze. "Story's over. Feel free to respond. Ask questions? Scoff? Scream obscenities? Marvel over my awesomeness? Something?"

Sirius was still staring at Juan uncomprehendingly, jaw slack. Remus was peering at Juan analytically, as if staring at a puzzle to be solved, slightly creeping out Juan in the process - if his inching away from the werewolf was any indication. Luna just smiled and waved unhelpfully, pausing to look down at her hands before giving him a thumbs down that Juan was vaguely sure was supposed to be a thumbs up. Draco, once more, looked bored; and Lucas seemed enthralled by Juan's tale, as if listening to a book on tape or something.

Juan sighed and threw his hands up in the air before whirling around to point his finger accusingly at Harry. "This is because of you. You infected them with your… Harry-ness. And now they're just vegetables. You're fault." He made a strange, complicated hand gesture before summoning up a chair and sitting down, pouting.

Harry raised one eyebrow at the hand gesture.

"…Felt like it," Juan responded, eyes on the ground, still feeling rejected. Harry lazily patted Juan on his head, which was as high up as Harry's shoulder despite the fact that the dementor was slumped forward in his seat.

"So… there're your answers," Harry said, looking at the five around him nervously, unsure of how they would respond.

Draco shrugged and leaned up against the wall in false nonchalance. "Eh, the ending was a bit dull."

This surprised a chuckle out of Harry. "My life is not some book, Draco. You can't review it and leave your opinion for future notice."

Draco gave Harry a dry look before shrugging again. Lucas raised his hand. "I thought the story line was pretty good. Characters were a bit one-dimensional, though."

"My life is not a book! Stop analyzing it!"

Draco snorted. "Wouldn't have been a very good read, anyways."

"Hey!" Harry felt his eyebrow twitch and began rubbing his scar again. '_At this rate, I'm going to rub my scar raw_,' Harry thought with a mental sigh. Out loud, he said, "I defeat Voldemort and all I get is criticism and sarcasm?"

Juan nodded seriously. "Yes, that's all you get. Nothing else. I probably won't even buy you a Christmas present this year.

The dementor paused. "…Again."

Cindy patted Harry on the head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Harry," she knelt down to speak face to face with him, her apology reflecting in her eyes even as her mouth pulled into an almost involuntary grin. "You deserve better than this for what you've done today, and I'm afraid Juan and I are doing a rather poor job of showing you how grateful we are and how proud we are of what you've done." She stood up and gestured down towards herself. "It's just… I can't tell you how amazing it feels to be free. I… I almost can't think straight."

Harry took a moment to look up at Cindy's face and see - really see - the giddy excitement there, the liberation that he'd never seen before. He glanced over at Juan, and he, while still being his annoyingly cheerful and sarcastic self, seemed somehow… new. If Harry had to describe the aura these two gave off, he would compare it to when you build a fort of blankets in your bed, cutting off all open air flow and breathing, for a few minutes, only the stale air contained in the blankets before reaching out your head and taking a deep breath of pure, flowing, fresh air.

Harry smiled, a sense of calm, purpose, and satisfaction drifting over him. And – as cliché as it was – it was all worth it. Even glancing over at Lucas and Draco, Harry could see relaxedness in them, as if all the tension they'd been feeling since – well, since Voldemort had come into their lives – had drained out.

Seeing his glance, Cindy said, "And don't worry; this is just their – and our – way of trying to deal with the shock of this all."

Harry raised an eyebrow once more.

"The natural pureblood response to anything unsettling or strange is either sarcasm or open hostility," Juan responded. "That's the way it's been for centuries."

"That… makes a surprising amount of sense," Harry muttered.

Lucas looked up at Harry then, and the young wizard could see the werewolf shaking slightly and that he had a mixture of relief and terror on his face. Lucas raised another hand haltingly. "It's either this for me or freaking out. I mean – I swear this has been the most messed up day I will ever have in my life." Harry winced in sympathy and gave the werewolf a compassionate glance.

"…Harry."

Harry started slightly as Remus finally spoke and moved his eyes back over to Juan and Cindy, steadfastly aware that he had not looked over at Sirius and Remus directly since Juan had continued with the story.

"Please look at us, Harry," Remus begged softly.

Harry's eyes remained firmly planted anywhere but the two. He wasn't quite sure why, after everything that he'd experienced, it was so hard to own up to the last few years to them. Maybe it was the guilt – their guilt – at believing he'd been in Azkaban suffering so badly for so long; the guilt that was built on a bit of a falsehood. They'd deserved it, but still… Why was it that this kind of revenge just made Harry feel like the guilty one? And not only that, but Harry felt exposed. Just about every single secret he had was now exposed.

Harry sighed and moved his gaze down to his feet. "Now you know just about everything important about me. What now?"

"No, we don't. Harry, please look at us."

Juan, quickly growing weary of the melodrama, stomped hard at Harry's foot, forcing the wizard's head to flinch up and his eyes to look straight into Remus and Sirius' faces. Remus was staring at Harry with earnest, apologetic, sympathetic eyes, his visage begging Harry to 'please listen.' Sirius appeared suitably devastated, rather ashamed, and – as Harry has expected – angry. Harry braced himself for what he fully expected to be a horrible reprimand.

Instead, he found himself roughly pulled into his godfather's tight, almost desperate, embrace. "Harry, we don't know you at all anymore," Sirius reiterated Remus' words. "I really don't think we ever did. Not only did we let you get sent to Azkaban without a fight and missed even more of your life - after having already missed most of it." Sirius paused for a breath, and Harry took the time to try and sort out that sentence in his head. Sirius continued, "And now we find out that during those three years, you took on another almost impossible and life-threatening task. And now, today, we couldn't help you at all, even though you died for crying out loud! And all that on top of the fact that we don't even know your favorite food, your favorite color, anything! We make the worst godfather and –well, whatever you're gonna call Remus – in the history of godfathers and whatever-you're-gonna-call-'ems."

Sirius pulled out of the bone-crushing hug he'd been giving Harry to allow the young hero to be transferred over to Remus, who nearly hurt Harry with the strength of his hug. "I'm so, so sorry, Harry," he whispered.

Harry blinked, unable to comprehend for a second that Remus and Sirius were apologizing to him over the fact that he'd let them feel guilty believing he'd been being tortured in Azkaban. "So you're not angry I let you believe…" Harry trailed off, and Sirius jumped to fill the silence.

"Oh, of course we are. That was horrible."

Remus nodded sagely and added," But we deserved it completely."

"So now," Sirius said, "We're just going to make up for lost time and spend as much time as we can with you, so that we won't be helpless to save you ever again." Both ex-convict and werewolf gave each other satisfied glances, proud of their little speech, and stepped back to allow a stunned Harry some room.

"But you did help me," Harry said slowly, to Sirius and Remus' great surprise. "You came, didn't you?" An unspoken, 'I needed that' followed Harry's words.

Now everyone in the room, including Juan and Cindy, was confused. "But you made us swear unbreakable vows to do whatever you said," Remus countered in an off-balanced way and with a scrunched up face that indicated he was searching his memory for any clue as to Harry's enigma of a statement.

"We had no choice," Sirius strengthened Remus' point.

Harry himself frowned in confusion before bursting into laughter, startling the room's occupants and triggering an involuntary, blissful smile on both Sirius and Remus' faces. They did not seem as if they would ever again take for granted his laughter. When Harry had controlled himself, his mouth was still stretched in a smile as he explained, "I barely put enough power into that spell to make you think it worked; it has nearly no effect. If you hadn't truly wanted to come with me, you wouldn't have had to, and the worst you would have gotten out of it would have been a stomachache and maybe a fever."

Sirius and Remus exchanged glances, dumbfounded. Lucas leaned over to whisper to Draco, "Is that possible?" For once, Draco just shrugged – before pushing the werewolf out of his personal space. Cindy frowned disapprovingly at this falsehood, though a hint of pride at Harry's abilities showed in her eyes. Juan laughed uproariously, not hiding his mirth at Harry's actions.

Harry continued, "If you really hadn't wanted to be with me, to do what I said, to regain my trust, you would have been able to not follow my orders and would have figured out about the spell – even if you hadn't wanted to die."

"B-but," Sirius stammered, "I felt a need to do what you said."

It was Remus who answered him. "There was no compulsion in the spell, though, was there? We just thought there was, and it was just our minds ways of attempting to keep us alive at all costs because we believed we would die if we didn't obey. We were rationalizing things without even realizing it."

Sirius turned to Harry. "You said you wouldn't put your friends – whom I will now assume are these dementors here – in danger."

Harry shrugged. "I… took a risk and trusted in you naivety and fear of the spell, at least, if not you intentions and loyalty. It wasn't really that much of a risk; and Juan and Cindy trust my judgment, so I knew they wouldn't have minded." Harry looked away, blushing slightly at the exultant looks on Sirius and Remus' faces.

This time, Sirius' calloused hand pulled Harry's head over so that his eyes would meet the young wizard's. "Thank you," Sirius smiled. "For trusting us."

Remus' hand reached out to ruffle Harry's hair before the werewolf's attention turned back to Juan and Cindy. "So you've lived with them for the past three years?"

Harry nodded. "They're my family now."

"And they've been the ones taking care of you and teaching you?" Now Sirius' interest was piqued once more.

Harry nodded again. "Yeah, and they did a good job of it too. Those three years were some of my very best."

Sirius assumed a rather pained expression at that, as if being reminded of all the best years he'd missed. Remus suddenly took on a speculative air and leaned in to inspect Juan and Cindy intently. "So you've been completely taking care of Harry? His training, sleeping arrangement, meals, and health have all been your responsibility?"

Juan and Cindy shared a confused glance as to why the two felt the need to keep stressing this point before Cindy responded. "Yes, Juan and I –along with our father, Harry's 'Uncle Morty' – were put in charge of Harry and his wellbeing while he was at Azkaban."

"Yup," Juan agreed, patting Harry on the head. "Poor little Harry here needs some chaperones to keep him out of trouble and still breathing." Harry scowled.

Remus turned his stare over to Harry for a few tense seconds before swinging his gaze back to Juan and Cindy. Sirius looked puzzledly at Harry, trying to figure out Remus' meaning before his forehead creased in realization; and he looked over at Juan and Cindy as well. Lucas, once more, appeared lost and didn't try to hide it. Draco scoffed at the entire matter.

"What?" Juan finally demanded, quickly growing irritated with the entire matter despite his euphoria over being set free.

Finally, Remus was the one who answered. "He's far too thin."

Harry immediately groaned, out loud and unabashedly. Why was everyone so stuck on his weight?

"Yes," Sirius said accusingly, "And his health and food habits were your responsibility."

Juan had ducked down behind Harry to snigger – though, Remus and Sirius seemed to take it as shame, to which they nodded in slight approval. Cindy, however, seemed to light up at the topic of discussion, causing Harry to have several slightly uncomfortable flashbacks in quick succession.

"You're completely right," she agreed. "I've been saying so ever since he arrived at Azkaban; even when we could feed him decently, he never gained weight! This situation needs desperately to be remedied."

Remus and Sirius made noises of consent, and the three quickly formed a circle and began discussing how to "fix the dilemma."

Now Juan was erupting into full-blown peals of laughter. Harry began to glance about in panic.

"Lucas, stop looking at me!" he growled to the young werewolf who had been checking out his waistline.

"But they're right," he defended himself.

"Shut it, Lucas!"

Draco snorted, drawing the werewolf's attention, before proceeding to ignore said werewolf.

Harry might have felt some pity for the neglected Lucas had it not been for the sly looks he was being sent by the three in the corner.

"Juan, Juan – where's Dave?" Harry asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

It took Juan a few seconds to overcome his laughter and answer Harry. "Debriefing the troops." Harry gave him a blank stare. "He's talking to all of the other dementors about our current 'sitch–'" **(1)** air quotes here. Not for the time, Harry wondered where Juan had been picking up such phrases. "– he'll probably want you to come in and talk to him and the others later as well. Cindy and I were sent ahead to make sure your head hadn't exploded or something."

Harry scowled, both at Juan and at Dave's irritating absence. Harry was just about ready to shove his way into his companions' "let's-make-Harry-fat"-fest when a distraction that immediately captured the whole – and rather hostile – attention of every being in the room was duly provided.

By Dumbledore.

…_Fantastic_.

Harry wondered absently if anyone in the room would object to murder.

**Author's Note: (1) "Sitch" equals "Situation" I have no idea how archaic that term actually is (and whether or not anyone uses it anymore) but I just did. Does anyone but me automatically think of "Kim Possible"? No? Okay.**

**Anyways, I am so, so, soooo sorry for the long wait. I've had this up on my computer for weeks, but I just forgot about it because my life has been an absolute terror this year. (Word of advice, AP US history is horrible. Don't take it unless you want an hour and a half of studying every night.) **

**Also, I realize this was kind of a filler chapter, but don't worry; stuff is supposed to happen in the next one.**

**Anyways, I'm really sorry about the wait, and I'll try to work on the next chapter but I'm afraid you get no promises from me on update times. I apologize for this, but don't worry; I will not put this on hiatus or delete it – there may just be (huge) discrepancies in how often I update. Although, I've lost a lot of steam in my inspiration for this; I'm not sure whether or not it would be better for me to just start revising the story (like I am planning to) and hoping that gives me some good ideas and new enthusiasm. Oh, well, I don't know either way.  
Thanks to all my reviewers and those who participated in my poll. I will leave that up for a while longer, so if you haven't done it yet, please do. Bye. **


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